


Gods and Monsters

by reaperlight



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Timeline Changes, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, Angst, Baking, Character Death, Character Study, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Drama, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Eventual Dark!Harry, Families of Choice, Family Secrets, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Character, Goths, Halloween Costumes, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Homophobia, Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Kuroshitsuji, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Jealousy, Light is a bastard but not a complete bastard, Male-Female Friendship, Manipulation, Manipulative Dumbledore, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mental Health Issues, Metamorphmagus, Mind Control, Mind Games, Moving In Together, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Name Changes, Non-Explicit, Non-Linear Narrative, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), POV Alternating, Parseltongue, Past Child Abuse, Pop Culture, References to Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Serial Killers, Shinigami, Smart!Harry, Snakes, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team Kira, Unconventional Families, Werewolves, Wordcount: Over 10.000, Work In Progress, Xenophobia, from a certain point of view, improbable scenarios
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:24:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaperlight/pseuds/reaperlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not his intention to bring an innocent into his war with L. But then he couldn’t in good conscience leave him there to be returned to the cupboard under the stairs. Ryuk chuckled and clapped him on the back. “Happy Father’s Day. I’m sure Misa will be thrilled.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Or the one where Light Yagami adopts Harry Potter.)

“You understand it will be a lot of hard work, don’t you?”

The woman, the social worker, glowered down at him from over her desk. It was very neat and organized—quite unlike the natural state of his uncle’s workspace. 

According to the plaque on her desk her name was Mrs. Stevens, but that hardly seemed relevant. She seemed no different from all the others—the boy knew she wanted to send him back. Like they _all_ did—everyone but his new parents. 

But he wouldn’t let them! He refused to let her intimidate him. 

He took his cues from his new father and merely stared back at her impassively. 

“I don’t care!” the small child asserted. “I’m staying with Dad!”

He refused to return to _that house_ —he would run away if it came to that. But given a choice he would much rather stay with his new guardian, or rather _guardians_ —guardians who _actually took care of him._

It was a nice change. 

The boy formerly known as “Freak” was still in awe of his new guardians—they were perfect in every way. When his aunt and uncle had signed over custody ( _just like that!_ ) he had been a bit nervous—nothing Vernon liked ever boded well for him. In fact the boy got the sense that when his aunt and uncle signed him over to the tall, handsome Japanese man that they were hoping the man would do something bad to him but to his immense relief the man wasn’t bad at all. 

In fact Light Yagami was by far the nicest person the boy had ever met. 

True, sometimes Light could be a bit... _off_ , a bit scary, but it was hardly noticeable unless you were _really looking_ and Light was so _nice_ to him (he got him pizza! And ice cream!) So it hardly seemed important. 

Not to mention the monster that always accompanied him...

The only time he’d ever seen that many jagged teeth before was on one of Dudley’s cartoons! Still the boy was a bit new to the concept of not being struck every time he opened his mouth so it took a while for him to rouse his courage to ask about it. So it was that shortly after they had first met him, Light had been very confused when Harry Potter asked him about his pet dinosaur. 

It seemed a perfectly logical conclusion to the boy—the creature was _huge,_ towering over Light who was no shorty either, standing nearly two meters tall, but the creature stood at least a half meter taller still and though he wasn’t exactly reptilian he did have feathers—weren’t dinosaurs supposed to have feathers? Despite what all Dudley’s toys looked like? Dudley punched him the one time he read that and then went on to oh-so-sagely declare that “feathers are gay and so are books,” whatever that meant. Gay or not Ryuk cut an impressively intimidating figure with his skull-like face with bulging yellow eyes (that somewhat resembled overly large olives), a smashed in nose, and slicked back, spiky black hair. He was dressed all in black with chains and leather—like one of those teenagers that his aunt and her tea ladies were always tutting against. In short, Ryuk _looked_ far scarier than his uncle but the boy soon found he was far nicer though. (He would find they both were—at least to him.) 

Light seemed alarmed to see them interacting. That’s when the boy learned that apparently few people could see the creature. “Freak” was worried he’d done something freakish again and was about to be punished for it. Light only chided him not to speak to the creature in public and if he forgot and did it anyway to just pretend Ryuk was his imaginary friend. 

The boy nodded and smiled. He could do that! 

He learned his father’s friend(?) was something called a Shinigami whose name was Ryuk. He came from another world but was rather fond of Earth apples (and so the boy decided he was more like an alien than a dinosaur.) 

He was cool. 

Ryuk would even carry him around and let him play with his fluffy black feathers… but never out in public. 

Light reminded them of that. No one else could see Ryuk and it would be strange if he started floating around, that there were plenty of people who didn’t like things that were different, people like his relatives, people who would hurt him because of it and that they could both get in trouble for that. 

At the boy’s look of fear and brief explanation of why “freakiness” was bad Light assured him it was okay to be different—that that just meant that they were both _Kami,_ extraordinary in their own ways—but the trick was not to rub it in the faces of those poor, deprived _average_ people. 

For the first time the boy understood—the Dursleys and everyone like them… they were trying to make him be normal because they were jealous and petty and _stupid._ At first the boy had imagined trying to be “as freaky as possible,” whatever that meant, just to spite them but Light had insisted it was far better to take the high road—work their system, play their game, and then _utterly destroy them_ in a way that was completely just and fair.

Fairness. Justice. That was something the boy could get behind. There wasn’t a lot of it in Little Whinging—that was for sure. It was really nice to finally find someone as passionate about justice as he was and who could see how _awful_ things truly were. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but just… something in Light’s eyes told him—all the people who hurt him—they would get what was coming to them. 

That made him smile. 

Yes, the boy already loved and adored Light and Ryuk and had taken to calling them “father” and “dad,” respectively. Light just looked like a “father”—he held a certain air of power that was not to be trifled with—which the child found to be quite awesome when watching how he relentlessly pushed his way through the bureaucratic hurdles and the many people telling him “no.” 

The boy was shocked and amazed that anyone would go to that much trouble just to keep him. 

Wasn’t he only a useless burden? The Dursleys had always told him so. And yet Light not only wanted him, he was willing to _fight_ for him. 

The boy decided that Light was everything a father _should_ be and that he would be honored to be the man’s son. And he could already tell that Ryuk would be a fun and awesome dad—when the boy had first admitted he thought his name was Freak, Ryuk had started calling him “Bocchan.” The boy was about to get mad—he wasn’t a “Bocchan,” whatever that was—when his father translated, and told him it meant “Little Master.” The boy decided that was okay if a bit strange—no one had ever addressed him like _that_ before! No one had ever called him anything _nice_ before! He was always Freak-Worthless-Burden so he decided he rather liked being a “Little Master.” 

His father seemed a bit irritated about it for some reason—it was almost like he was jealous? 

That seemed to be the case because he seemed somewhat appeased when Ryuk told him not to worry, Light was still _the most worthy_ of the Shinigami—which earned him a laugh—it seemed to be some sort of inside joke between them.

The boy interrupted their weird staring contest to inform them he liked “Bocchan” better than “Freak” and asked if they could call him that from now on. 

Light then reminded him that that “Bocchan” was a title, like “Prince” or “King,” not a name, and when they properly adopted him he would have a new name of his choosing and _yes,_ it could be a cool one. 

Ryuk would still call him “Bocchan” though. 

The boy smiled at the memory and felt a largely unfamiliar warm, happy feeling in his chest. 

He didn’t care what the stupid social worker said—he had already found his home. 

He said as much to Mrs. Stevens, though carefully left out the “stupid” part—Light had warned him against antagonizing the social workers, after all. 

Mrs. Stevens was shocked by his proclamation. Sure the man that accompanied the small child was polite and pleasant enough but he also seemed rather cold and aloof—that is, he didn’t exactly seem like a very child-friendly personality so it was nothing short of shocking that they bonded so quickly. 

Well, that was her initial impression, along with the fact that the man was very handsome—he was tall, but slender and lithe, almost a swimmer’s body, and moved with a grace that seemed almost divine. He also had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen—they were brown but with hints of gold, and a most stunning shade of red that boiled just beneath the surface. Pretty, silky auburn brown hair fell into his eyes. Mrs. Stevens thought that to be a strange colour on a Japanese man—maybe he was mixed?

In the smaller chair beside him, the boy in question tried not to fidget or play with the buttons on his dress shirt. He’d never had a shirt with buttons before or a shirt of his own that fit him for that matter. Light had insisted on buying him a whole new wardrobe. The boy, having never gone shopping before, took his cues from his new guardians—patterning himself off Light for formal clothes and Ryuk for casual clothes. They both seemed pleased with his selections and he ended up with a lot of tight black t-shirts and khaki pants. It was odd; after wearing Dudley’s hand-me-downs for so long it felt weird and good, having clothes that actually fit.

Afterwards Light and Ryuk took him to an abandoned lot and allowed him to practice his powers (something his Aunt and Uncle would _never_ do), Ryuk shouting encouragements that he should set Dudley’s old clothes on fire with his mind. 

Which he shockingly, somehow managed to accomplish—the dirty rags going up in an impressive ball of flame. 

So, in the boy’s opinion, they were the best dads ever. 

Light had insisted on his respectable clothes for these meetings, which was fine—unlike other boys his age he wasn't about to complain. The boy reasoned that Light giving him such clothes meant he saw him as a potential equal, as another _person_ , not a Freak. The Dursleys would never have let a “Freak” like him dress like an actual person. Light had even given him advice on how to get people to like him better just by dressing differently for different situations, about human perception and how it was important to look “respectable” if you wanted people to take you seriously. 

The boy gaped at his new guardian—he was _so smart!_ He had an answer for _everything!_ And Ryuk was a lot of fun to hang out with and he actually liked playing with him! And Light... Light was just so amazing, and _smart,_ and always so… _in control._ The boy decided right then, that even if Light had ulterior motives for helping him it was still better than the Dursleys.

Also when he grew up he wanted to be just like him.

The social worker turned a page in the boy’s file, making note that he was looking much better than he did in the dossier picture—for one he had put on a healthy amount of weight while in Mr. Yagami’s care and no longer resembled a child skeleton. His normally messy black hair had been gelled up into a series of neat, manageable spikes (unbeknownst to her, patterned after a certain Shinigami—they had found it was the only way to tame the bird’s nest that was the cursed Potter hair) and his glasses were brand new and no longer held together with tape. Green eyes stared up at her from behind them with an intensity that was disturbing to see on a child so young. 

She didn’t quite know what to make of them. The man who accompanied the child was well-dressed and looked respectable but he was a _foreigner_ and therein lay the problem—not only did the adoption have to be finalized when the child had living family in Britain but he needed a passport to Japan. He would have to apply for residency and eventually citizenship. Further complicating things, the man wanted “his son” to have dual citizenship “in case he wanted to return to England one day.” It was a _mess_ of paperwork and yet the man was nothing but persistent, plowing through every other department until he’d somehow landed at her desk.

She didn’t know quite what to do with them. Mrs. Stevens couldn’t quite put a finger on it but something felt… _off_ about the situation but she had no idea why. Things looked okay on paper and she had discovered as she spoke to him, to her bemusement, that despite his cold demeanor Light was also quite the charmer and he held an air of maturity and grace despite his young age. 

“Mr. Yagami…”

“Light, please. Mr. Yagami is my father. That’s a lovely dress, ma’am. I like the colour...”

She wondered if he was single.

Though he was a little young for her and she doubted her husband would approve... Maybe she could set her daughter up?

Mrs. Stevens glanced down at the dossier and noted that he had his fiancée listed as a secondary guardian for the boy. 

Dammit. 

“You’ll have to learn Japanese—” Mrs. Stevens spoke down to the child, tearing her gaze away from that angel-faced man before her to _actually do her job._ She still found Light’s presence to be very distracting despite being thirty years his senior and kept sending him heated gazes that he seemed not to notice at all. 

That was when the black-haired pipsqueak spoke up, interrupting her perfect fantasies… 

The boy barely refrained from rolling his eyes. As if they didn’t already know all this already. _Of course_ he would be learning Japanese. He was moving to Japan! Shouldn’t have all those forms they filled out counted for something? 

“ _Hai! I know!_ I’ve already started studying! Father is teaching me!” the boy nodded curtly and the social worker scowled. 

“I think she’s just concerned that it will be a lot of hard work. It requires dedication and careful study… that is, you’ll have to keep at it, even when it’s frustrating for you,” Light interjected in an attempt to smooth over the situation. 

The boy tried to unobtrusively adjust his new glasses in his agitation. He was still not quite used to them because it was the first time he ever owned a pair of glasses that fit properly. The boy frowned slightly. None of his new guardians had glasses. They had already discussed the possibility of getting laser surgery when he was older if the adoption went through and the doctors in Japan said it was safe. He couldn’t wait until he was older and living in Japan. 

“But I’m _used_ to doing a lot of work! Every day I did all the chores for my relatives. No breaks!”

Both adults seemed alarmed by that statement. It was one thing to know that the boy had been abused and neglected and another to know just to what extent his previous guardians went to hurt their own flesh and blood. 

Mrs. Stevens noted the young man’s eyes flashed with righteous anger but quickly reigned in his emotions to place a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“H-how old are you, young man?” Mrs. Stevens asked the child, dreading the answer. She was sure she had read it in his file but for some reason that information seemed nebulous in her mind... 

“I’m five years old… ma’am,” belatedly remembering how Light had coaxed him that it would make a better impression if he was _polite_ to the social workers. 

They all knew it was a lot for a five year old to remember but apparently he was what Ryuk had called a “smart cookie” and the boy reasoned it couldn’t be any harder than doing the cooking and cleaning for his relatives—chores which he’d already been doing for the last year and a half. 

Mrs. Stevens bright, blue eyes widened upon hearing the boy’s age. He was older than she thought he was, but in a way, that just made it _worse._ The boy was much too small for his age and clearly malnourished. She had seen his relatives! Well, their photographs accompanied his file and they clearly weren’t wanting in funds or food. No, they knowingly and purposefully starved this child and if given the chance they would gleefully do it again. 

Mrs. Stevens wasn’t a vengeful person by nature but… 

But… 

_Kira take them all._

“No breaks?” Light prompted, brows lined with clear concern. 

“Well sometimes if I was good and nothing weird or freaky happened my aunt would give me some burnt toast or an apple. I like apples.” 

There was a brief but poignant pause and then the man, almost too swiftly, interjected “I like apples too,” with a charming smile. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you have any favorite kinds?”

The boy’s face fell. “I wasn’t good very often,” he admitted softly. 

“Haru…” Light spoke gently, addressing the boy with the name he’d chosen for himself, “What your aunt and uncle did… It wasn’t your fault. You understand that, right? You didn’t do anything wrong. _They_ were the bad ones. Not you.” 

If he was a normal child, Haru would probably be clinging to Light right now. However while in his relative’s care the boy had learned to be adverse to touch. He’d also learned to read people very well and he could tell that this seemed to be something he and his new father had in common… though perhaps for different reasons. 

Haru squeezed his expressive green eyes shut against the sudden surge of emotion. 

“I’ll cook for you and clean your house every day,” he rasped to the concern of all. 

“Haru… while I appreciate the sentiment… you will not have to do that for us.” 

“But…”

“Haru… you’re _five._ You do understand what you’re relatives did was not normal?” 

“Er… Yes…?” 

Haru had thought Light was just going easy on him because he was sick. He fully expected to be working for him like he did at the Dursleys as soon as he got better. 

In fact he _wanted_ to. Because in Haru’s mind, after the Dursleys, that was the _only way_ he was permitted to show love and affection and his new guardians, unlike the Dursleys, _actually deserved it…_

Light frowned at the boy’s questioning inflection. It looked like he had his work cut out for him. “Besides,” Light blithely continued, deciding to leave any more uncomfortable questions for later “Misa likes to do the cooking. Did you know she has her own cooking show in Japan?” 

“Really? _Wow!_ ” 

Misa sounded amazing!

The more he heard of her the more in awe Haru was of the woman he had yet to meet—not only was she rich but she had gotten that way by herself! She was an actress _AND_ a rockstar?! _AND_ she had her own TV shows, and made clothes, and commercials, and ran companies, and a bunch of other stuff! _AND_ she had her own cooking show?! 

Haru pouted to himself. How could he hope to compete with _all that?_ He wanted to be useful to him too! He didn’t want to be the obvious burden to Light that he had been to the Dursleys. 

“But maybe when you’re older you can give her some tips,” Light stage-whispered and Haru giggled nervously.

Maybe Misa could give _him_ some tips...She _clearly_ knew how to get stuff done. 

“I will give you chores from time to time but nothing like that, okay?” 

“Er… Okay?”

Again it came out as more of a question and though he forced a smile, Light could tell the boy had just frozen in fear. So he felt it rather important to elaborate on just how things would be. “You will be allowed breaks. In fact, I _insist._ If you get hungry _you will eat._ If you get too tired _you will rest._ I _will_ expect you to study hard, to do your best in school, to learn Japanese, and to keep your room clean but Misa, that is your _new mom,_ and I are the adults. It’s _our_ job to take care of you. If you have difficulties we will help you. I know it’s a new concept and it may be difficult at first but… I do hope that in time you will know its okay to come to us for help.” 

“I get a room?” the boy asked with enthusiasm and they both noted how the social worker paled. 

Light beamed with pride—that was masterfully done. He couldn’t have done it better himself. He was sure that she would come around to their point of view sooner rather than later.

“ _Of course!_ In fact, Misa got a townhouse apartment just for you.” 

_“What?!”_

“Naturally your, uh… mother and I will move in to keep you company but you can have it or another one of your choosing when you come of age.”

Haru was floored. Someone he didn’t even know was willing to do that? _For him?_

But… he was just a freak! He didn’t deserve all that! He was still getting used to sharing a hotel room! He didn’t know what he would do with a whole apartment! 

It seemed like far too much space for the boy who grew up in a boot cupboard. He was still not used to sleeping in a bed of his own and he didn’t trust it. His Uncle had always suggested that bad things happened to Freaks who slept in beds. 

When Haru gave voice to some of his concerns when Light caught him sleeping on the floor, rather than punish him or force him back into the bed as Haru was half-expecting, Light got him a futon and a child’s portable tent to put over it. 

That was far more comfortable to him than the bed but then he felt bad when he later learned from one of the other exchange students that Light had gotten a room with an extra bed just for him but he didn’t use it. 

It seemed a waste that no one used it. Haru had offered it to Ryuk but the Shinigami declined, saying he was much too used to sharing a bed with Light. Light looked embarrassed about that for some reason though Haru had no idea why. Though… his aunt and uncle shared a bed... maybe it was like that? 

Haru noticed that the Shinigami often lounged on Light’s bed even during the day, snacking on apples. Haru thought him very brave. Ryuk was definitely what the Dursleys would class as “a Freak” and yet he had such an air of nonchalance. Wasn’t he afraid? Ryuk had just laughed when asked and declared the bed was “comfy” and “much better than sleeping in a dust pile.” Haru could relate to that—his cupboard had been very dusty and full of spiders. Haru eventually moved his futon and child’s tent onto the bed after that, reasoning that if Ryuk could do it, why couldn’t he? 

(For some reason Light got Ryuk an extra bag of apples the following day.) 

Haru was feeling overwhelmed. He knew Ryuk was cool and Light was cool and now here was another person who might be cool as well? Someone he hadn’t even met properly? Light had mentioned Misa to him before and they’d even spoken briefly over the phone but he had yet to actually meet her. Light’s explanation had pretty much went over his head but basically Misa was a friend of Light’s and was going to be his secondary guardian and share custody of him. When he asked why Ryuk couldn’t be his second guardian Light had patiently explained that as far as Social Services was concerned Ryuk didn’t exist and they wouldn’t allow him guardianship because Ryuk wasn’t human and they were picky about things like that and that, for whatever reason, Child Services liked seeing a child set up with a mom and a dad. Basically that meant that Misa was going to be his new mom, even though Light and Misa weren’t actually married. 

He was still nervous about meeting Misa. He wasn’t sure if she’d like him or not. Or if he’d like her, for that matter… But then in Haru’s limited experience people generally didn’t give things like that to people they didn’t like… So while he was anxious… he still couldn’t wait to meet her. 

“That won’t be troublesome for her? Or you?”

“Haru, she has six… just in Japan.” 

“Oh.” 

“And it’s no trouble. You’ll _never_ be a burden to us," Light assured with seeming sincerity. "We can take care of you.”

“O-okay.” 

The social worker obnoxiously cleared her throat. 

“However, Mrs. Stevens does have a point,” Light allowed. “It will be hard work to learn another language—though some would argue that _now_ really is the best time for you to learn it.” 

_“Really?”_

“Yeah. Your brain is still growing and developing so it can make connections easier than if you tried to learn as an adult…” 

“Cool!”

“But again, we would have a lot of ground to cover. I don’t want to discourage you but it may be challenging… how do I put this… in your school did you learn the alphabet?” 

“Just last week! I already knew it though.” 

“That’s very good, Haru.” 

The boy beamed at the praise until his new father dropped the next bombshell. 

“Japanese has _three._ And it’s… more complicated than the _Romanji,_ that is, the English system.” 

“Woah!”

“So you see it _is_ quite a lot of work.”

“I already said I’ll do it. I know it will be hard, okay! I’ll try not to whine about it. I promise! And… and you’ll help me, right?” 

“Of course,” his father said easily. 

“Okay.” 

The social worker cleared her throat again as if she had a particularly bad cold. “That may be true but we must proceed with the child’s best interests in mind. I still think it would be better if he were to remain with a nice British family…”

Light suppressed a sigh and idly tapped his fingers on the desktop. They’d already been down this route _many times_ before. True, adoption was never an easy process but the Dursleys had already signed over custody, even with the matter of citizenship this was _supposed_ to be just a formality—it should have been pretty cut and dry. Neither he nor Haru had anything against Britain per se… except for the fact that they kept sending him back to _that house._

It was nothing short of _criminal._

Back in the smaller chair next to Light, the young boy tried not to bounce in his seat. The last thing he wanted was for this to fall through because he was naughty or something and he could only hope and pray that nothing “freakish” happened that would ruin this for him but as the clocked ticked by and the social worker remained stone-faced Haru was getting more and more distressed. 

Why couldn’t they _see?_

It was Light who took him to the hospital, and made sure what his relatives did was _documented with the police_ so they shouldn’t be sending him to that house! To continue to try and send him back to the Dursleys as they had been doing was, as Light put it, not only illegal but _evil._

It was Light who _fed him_ and bought him clothes that actually fit and glasses he could actually _see_ out of. It was Light that taught him things, who listened to what he had to say, who let him watch TV. He even took him out swimming with the other college students from Japan. 

Light was not even ashamed to be seen with him by his friends or in public!

And the best part? Light never hit him and rarely ever raised his voice and even when he did... it was never without good reason. If Light shouted at him that meant that Haru was doing something immediately dangerous; not because he broke a dish or tracked mud in the house in his rush to complete his impossible list of tasks that not even an adult could finish in four hours. And Light promised that punishments would be at most a restriction of privileges but never food. (Naturally Haru was confused when Light first threatened Ryuk with “no apples” until Light explained that Ryuk was a Shinigami and, unlike a growing boy, didn’t actually need to eat to live. Ryuk’s apples were a purely recreational activity, more akin to smoking a cigarette than actually eating and while such a restriction made him a bit dramatic and irritable it truly did him no harm.) 

Haru’s life had really turned around this summer with no Dursleys and his cool new dads taking care of him. He even looked healthier, which was no coincidence—according to the doctors living with the Dursleys had been slowly killing him—he overheard something about septic shock, severe malnutrition, and thallium poisoning. Haru had no idea what those were but they sounded bad. In fact the doctors seemed to be under the impression he shouldn’t be alive. Light had looked very scary angry at the time. Not at _him,_ he would learn, but for some reason Light seemed to think Kira would be making his Aunt and Uncle go away soon. 

Haru wasn’t real sure he knew what was going on but he did know about Kira— _everyone_ knew about Kira (or at least everyone on the playground and as far as the five-year old was concerned, that was everyone)—Kira made bad people go away. Haru himself had often been threatened with Kira multiple times… by the bullies, by his neighbors, by his teacher, and by his relatives because he was clearly a rotten child and everyone knows rotten children get taken by the boogeyman. And while his aunt and uncle were awful to him they were still the only family he’d ever known so… surely they weren’t _that bad?_

That was when Light translated for the doctors—that along with the starvation and the beatings, his relatives had been feeding him _rat poison._ Haru had been shocked into silence and didn’t have a proper objection after that. Not that it would have mattered anyway. They said Kira was like a God and he was sure Kira would do what Kira would do regardless of his wishes on the matter. 

For some reason the incident made him like Light even more. True, Light could be a bit scary but no one had ever gotten mad _for him_ before, no one had ever looked out for him before, so even though his new father might have a bit of a scary side (and sometimes his eyes would glow an ominous red that no one else but Ryuk seemed to notice) he still felt safe with Light.

Haru’s recovery was nothing short of miraculous. In the past three months since he began staying at the hotel with Light and Ryuk and the exchange students … he felt so much better now, _happier, alive..._

Couldn’t they just see that Light was his father now? 

Haru squirmed in his seat and, in his agitation, he started to change. 

The boy watched in awe as he saw his reflection in the polished surface of the desk subtly mutate and rearrange itself, gaining high cheek bones and pointed chin, and his pale skin changed to a golden brown similar to his father’s. His eyes were still green but they gained epicanthic folds and his hair was still black but it was no longer the crow’s nest that it once was—silky locks fell into his eyes (again, in a manner similar to his father’s) covering his lightning bolt-shaped scar. 

Haru glanced between his reflection and that of the handsome Japanese man who was adopting him. 

He could now pass for the man’s own son. 

The social worker blinked and abruptly ceased her adamant arguments that he should be put with a British family despite him still being a British citizen. 

Was skin colour really the only issue?

That was so stupid! 

Light also looked a bit startled by the sudden change but unlike Vernon did not start screaming at him for doing freakish things. No, if anything he looked _intrigued_ and perhaps even, dare he say, _proud_ of him? Haru belatedly realized that even when they first met and he’d done the freakish thing of saving himself, _somehow,_ after Vernon had pushed him into traffic (one minute the truck was rushing towards him the next he was across the street, shaking, and nearly collapsing into Light’s coffee table. Light didn’t yell at him for it though. If it had been Vernon he no doubt he would have been thrown, bloody and broken into the cupboard by now and Vernon would still be screaming at him.)

And whenever he did weird things after… Light never screamed at him. In fact both he and Ryuk had even encouraged him to try and do freakish things… or as they put it, “use his power.” Haru decided that was a better way to put it. 

The boy gave a shy, tentative smile which only brightened when Light beamed back at him.

Mrs. Stevens blinked in confusion, glanced down at the dossiers in front of her and then back at them, and then focused on her empty glass for some reason before swiftly rifling through the paperwork. When she asked, Haru reluctantly gave her the number of Arabella Figg, the only person in Little Whinging who didn’t refer to him as a delinquent, as a reference to verify some information... 

“Is Mr. Potter a Half-blood?” Mrs. Stevens had asked. He must have always been. The light was playing tricks on her eyes. One didn’t suddenly “Turn Japanese,” regardless of what the eighties pop song said. “I assume he is half but I have an irregularity here in some official documentation...” 

“Oh? Oh! Of course! I thought everyone knew that!” declared Mrs. Figg, assuming the person on the other end of the line to be one of the muggleborn Order Members, probably one of the few who had infiltrated low level offices in the Ministry. Who else would try to contact her like this asking about Harry Potter’s blood status? Though it was still slightly puzzling that they used the phone rather than the Floo... Before Mrs. Figg could further ponder the conundrum her mind, which had been _Obliviated_ one too many times, wandered on to other, more important things—such as where Tom, Fluffy, Tiger, Orion, Mouser, Oreo, Queenie, and Mr. Tibbles could possibly be sleeping this fine afternoon… 

“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” Mrs. Stevens said and disconnected the call. 

Well the boy was half-Japanese… that simplified things. 

It must have been the father then—she at least had some information on the boy’s mother but _absolutely nothing_ on the father—he must have been Japanese. She marked it down on his file and then considered both the boy and the man with a critical eye. Perhaps Mr. Yagami _was_ the father… the social worker squinted again. Other than the hair and the eyes they looked near identical—yes, she was almost sure that Yagami was the father. She had an eye for this sort of thing… although he would have been _awfully_ young. 

How scandalous! 

That could be the reason he didn’t come forward until now. Mrs. Stevens idly marked that down on the file too but then frowned as she realized there were problems with this theory. And then, despite everything saying the boy would be better off away from the Dursleys, there was still that odd grandfatherly voice in her head insisting _“The boy should remain with his family”_ but that shouldn’t be something she was even considering! The boy should be nowhere near those animals after… 

The best way to reconcile with the odd voice in her head was if she assumed the boy to be the man’s biological son. That way he would still “remain with his family” without returning to the Dursleys. 

But then she noticed there were inconsistencies with her assumption—Mrs. Stevens frowned at the obvious genetic impossibilities— the boy had improbably green eyes given Light was Asian and had brown eyes... but perhaps those were colour contacts? And hadn’t the child’s mother been a red-head? If the child had black hair shouldn’t the father? 

“Do you dye your hair?” the social worker blurted to a scandalized Light. 

The college freshmen suppressed another sigh, long used to this line of inquiry. 

“No, I don’t dye my hair. Yes, this is my natural hair colour. Yes, I am full Japanese—it’s a mutation.” He was about to snark that no, he wasn’t a _kitsune,_ a fox demon, either but then he remembered he was dealing with a Westerner who might not get the reference. “Why do you ask?” 

“Well, the child’s mother, Lily Evans, was a red-head and you have reddish hair shouldn’t the child have reddish hair too? 

_Wait… She thinks I’m his biological father? We look… a moment ago we looked nothing alike?! I guess this says something about the human ability to rationalize,_ thought Light. 

He wasn’t too surprised by Haru’s spontaneous change—he already knew Haru had special powers. In fact, he’d already begun working with Haru to test what sort of things he could do and under what circumstances in order to learn to control them—to that end Light began with teaching Haru how to meditate to help him control his emotions (and whenever Light needed a moment of respite from the rambunctious five year old. Haru was proud to say he was getting quite good at meditation.) 

Light soon discovered that accessing Haru’s abilities wasn’t nearly as simple as learning how to use the Death Note. Worse, the magical child came with no helpful instruction manual and he had no idea what the rules actually were. So Light generally chose to err on the side of caution, limiting Haru’s practices to a couple times a day and made him stop if it looked like it was tiring him. Haru would whine about that on more than one occasion. Light was sure he _could_ have kept going—thanks to his relatives the child had learned to ignore pain, hunger, and exhaustion to just keep working but that wasn’t exactly healthy, especially with Haru still recovering from what his relatives did to him—his body was still healing and Light didn’t want to push him too hard. He didn’t want to be too ruthless either—this was a child who was recovering from severe psychological trauma. The problem, they soon learned, was that quite often it was trauma that caused him to display his powers in the first place. 

But while Light might on occasion gently suggest Haru think about how certain events made him feel to try and get him to reproduce a certain effect he would not go so far as to recreate the circumstances in which he was traumatized. (Though… he didn’t discount the idea entirely—perhaps when he was older… if he didn’t get a hang of it by then, if Haru agreed, and if they were both desperate enough to try it…) 

Ryuk was also uncharacteristically helpful with this endeavor and gave them several helpful suggestions on how Haru might control his powers. It was odd—the Shinigami had become almost _reverential_ of the child ever since he noticed the odd birthmark on the boy’s hip while they were waiting around at the doctor’s office. It was oddly intricate for a birthmark—a triangle enclosing a circle that was bisected by a line in the middle, and at first even the doctor had mistaken it for a tattoo. Light didn’t think it quite merited calling him “Bocchan” but then Light figured that after the damage done by his relatives, the boy could use an ego boost. Light had no idea what such a birthmark could possibly mean but he intended to find out. He added it to the long list of things he intended to research ever since adopting Haru. 

Light marveled at that. 

He hadn’t intended to adopt a child during his trip to England. This wasn’t what he planned, and at times it could be frustrating, but he didn’t regret it—it was never a dull moment with Haru around. 

Light was startled out of his musings by the excited piping of Haru’s voice. “Oh? Right! Okay!” 

And just like that, in response to the social worker’s inquiries, the boy’s hair spontaneously changed to an identical shade of red-brown as his new father’s. 

Light’s eyes widened in intrigue at the child who, aside from the striking eyes of jade, now looked like a chibi version of _him._ Light wasn’t sure why but he was inordinately pleased with this development. At the same time he hoped this didn’t cause problems with Misa. Light (ever so discreetly) gulped. He could almost hear her shrill complaining and his hurried explanation _“No, Misa sweetie, I didn’t sleep with another girl! (I have no interest in girls at all though you don’t seem to want to believe that.) Put the Notebook away…”_

Maybe Haru could change back once they were done with the adoption process because it could only benefit them now if she thought they were actually related… 

Light kind of liked the look though. He wondered what Haru thought about it. Maybe they could work on him changing back and forth… 

Light wondered if Haru could use that power to perfectly mimic the forms of specific people… 

Light wondered if Misa were to look at him while he was impersonating someone else if she would see Haru’s birth name or the name of the person he was mimicking… 

Light wondered if Haru might be able to help him to find L’s true name… 

He was getting ahead of himself. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Stevens was still gawking at the two of them—unable to believe what she was seeing. (It was a Hell of a week to give up drinking.) 

Haru glanced over at Light, his new father, his hero and savior, and made note of exactly how he was leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the knee. The boy tried to imitate it and nearly fell out of his seat before getting the hang of it. Light tried not to smirk—it wouldn’t do to have the kid thinking he was making fun of him. Apparently the boy adored and worshipped him over the basic care and courtesies he’d shown him. While useful to him, Light determined to teach Haru to be more careful in the future. At this rate some disreputable individual might take advantage of him. 

Mrs. Stevens shook her head again—why was it not obvious earlier that they were father and son? It was more tricks of the light. (She definitely needed a drink after this.) 

This case should have been fairly straightforward then. Light Yagami was a respectable figure in his home country—son of Chief Souichiro Yagami, the head of Japan’s National Police Agency which, as she understood it that was a pretty big deal—something like the equivalent to heading up MI5. But then Light himself was fresh out of high school… though with some of the highest scores ever recorded and he was already working for the NPA as a part-time consultant while attending college. So despite his young age he was also very mature and already held an air of intelligence, respectability, and power. They weren’t lacking money either. Light himself was fairly well off and the boy’s secondary guardian and the man’s fiancée, one Misa Amane, was a multi-millionaire. 

So on paper this appeared cut and dry. There shouldn’t be a problem with the adoption now…. 

Except for the strange, grandfatherly voice was back in her head again screaming _“Harry Potter must not leave Britain!”_

“I still think it would be better if he were to remain with a nice British family…

“That’s what you always say! Then you send me back with the Dursleys! _Every time!_ ” the little boy finally snapped. 

The social worker sniffed, affronted by the child’s rude manners. “Excuse me, young man. I’ve never ‘sent you back’ there. I don’t think we’ve ever met…”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but he’s correct. We met with you, Mrs. Stevens, on 3:15 last Tuesday and with your assistant, Ms. Davis, on the Friday before that.”

“And for that matter why are _you_ involved at all?” Mrs. Steven’s demanded, her voice oddly becoming rougher, older, and more masculine. 

Light narrowed his eyes. 

True, Light would have been content to let the system handle it… had they not kept sending the boy back to his abusive relatives. _Even Ryuk_ was thoroughly disgusted when they learned what horrors went on in that house. Light got the feeling that Ryuk was about ready to kill them off, despite the possibility of him dying, had Light not done it first—Shinigami like Ryuk were not supposed to kill in order to save human lives but Light, as a human, could use the notebook for humans and so did just that.

Ryuk’s reaction surprised Light the most—his Shinigami seemed so apathetic towards humans most of the time that Light never thought he might do something like that. Light was even more surprised to realize _he didn’t want him to_ —that he had actually grown quite fond of the monster’s company. Besides if Ryuk crumbled to dust he’d have no one to brag to, no one to properly share his accomplishments or appreciate his cunning plans. Sure, Misa would be more than willing to stroke his ego (among _other things_ ) and tell him how awesome he was most any time he asked but in her case such compliments were so freely given that they became more or less meaningless. It wasn’t quite the same as _impressing an actual God._ Besides, he was just… _accustomed_ to having his… _roommate_ cuddle up with him at night. He would _miss him_ if he died. Light hadn’t expected that. He doubted Ryuk would either. He would probably laugh at him if he mentioned it. So Light didn’t. They were just each other’s entertainment, after all, and Shinigami weren’t supposed to love any more than aspiring Gods. 

Light sighed, momentarily distracted as, unseen by the social worker, Ryuk moved protectively in front of Haru to stand at his side. This was all completely unseen by the ( _obviously insane_ ) social worker of course, and so was completely pointless, but it was the thought that counted and it seemed to brighten Haru’s mood. Ryuk smiled at him then and Light felt an odd tightness in his chest. For a moment nothing existed but the heavy pounding of his heart and for the first time Light wondered if Ryuk could interfere with his heart without the Death Note. 

_Dammit,_ he would take teasing out a genuine smile from the demon over Misa’s swooning at him any day of the week. (He had told her as much or at least the relevant bits several times before but it hadn’t deterred her attempts to woo him.) Somehow, Light could always tell when Ryuk was _actually smiling_ despite the fact the Shinigami’s face was almost frozen in that demented, fangy grin. Perhaps it was because they were so alike in that regard—Ryuk always seemed to know too, when he was in a bad mood despite his own smiling mask that Light had perfected for the world. As for Misa, despite being obnoxious and grating on his nerves, she was… something like a friend and she was very useful to him and so he tolerated her presence. Just the same he wouldn’t object if she found someone else to fixate on—in fact, as long as she remained to loyal to Kira and his cause, he openly encouraged it. Contrary to what L or Rem might think, he wasn’t a _complete_ bastard. He wouldn’t mind if Misa found happiness—he just knew she wouldn’t be finding it with him because he was literally incapable of being the Prince Charming she wanted. Yes, despite the image he projected for the world, Light knew he was far from perfect but, once again, he was obviously _the only one_ who could do it... 

All of his musings took less than an instant and Light snapped his full attention back to the deranged social worker who did indeed want to send his son back to that house. “The boy should stay with a nice British family… no, the boy should be with his family.” 

“You would really send the boy back to live with his _attempted murderers._ ” Light demanded, genuinely surprised at how the social worker had backpedaled on the Dursley issue. 

“I wouldn’t go that far…” 

“I would. Ma’am, you are aware that they pushed him into traffic? And they beat him to an inch of his life? They _starved him._ They _poisoned him._ What exactly is your definition of attempted murder? Just curious.”

“But they’re his _family._ ”

“This isn’t even up for debate. What they attempted to do was murder!” 

“None of that was proven…”

“Oh yes it was! I have copies of the official police report if you’re interested. Furthermore Mr. and Mrs. Dursley have shown no remorse and show every indication of attempting it again. That _this child_ keeps getting sent back to _those people_ is nothing short of _criminal._ The Dursleys have even said, on record, that they will kill him if he returns to their house. What you are proposing is criminally negligent and if you send him back there you will be culpable in this child’s murder.” 

Haru whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, Haru. You will _not_ be going back there.”

“That remains to be seen…” 

“If they try to send you back we will just have to appeal to a higher authority,” Light assured him, an odd crimson glint in his eyes. Ryuk cackled behind them. 

“You can try…” she sneered. 

Mr. Yagami might be well-connected in Japan but that meant next to nothing here. 

“Justice always comes for those pure of heart…” 

Mrs. Stevens paled. “Are you… are you threatening me with Kira? But I… I haven’t done anything!” 

“‘Haven’t done anything?’ _Look at what you are proposing!_ Have you actually read the file?” Light hissed, lowering his voice so as not to further disturb the already quivering child and better disturb the social worker as he slapped a copy of the police file down on the desk in front of her. “You are condemning an innocent child to torture and death!”

“Oh my…” 

Mrs. Stevens looked dazed, as if a spell had just lifted. 

“I don’t know… how could I have missed that?!” she cried in anguish.

“You’re not the only one,” Haru added in a near whisper. “My aunt and uncle always somehow convinced the police that nothing was wrong. They said… they said I was…” The boy’s nose scrunched up adorably as he tried to remember his aunt’s exact words ‘an attention-seeking troublemaker?’”

“Well, they aren’t wrong,” the social worker huffed and Light’s mood instantly darkened. 

“Ma’am, far be it from me to do your job but it’s a common tactic of abusers to blame the victim. Surely you know this?” 

Just as Mrs. Stevens held her head, groaning, a haunted look on her face, a strange man came bursting through the door in a flurry of black robes, waving a stick at them and shouting words in mangled Latin. 

_“Obliviate!”_

Ryuk laughed as the spell struck Light in the face. 

Of all the spells to use! 

Unknown by all the humans involved, Light just happened to be immune to that particular spell—because Light was the owner of a Death Note and possessed by a Shinigami his memories and life were tied to both the Shinigami and the notebook. That meant that by the very nature of their pact they couldn’t be tampered with by other magical sources. 

Also by happy accident the Shinigami’s mere presence on Earth and being in the vicinity of a certain wizarding child was playing havoc with certain tracking spells. That was why it took so long for anyone from The Order to respond to Harry Potter’s removal from Privet Drive—until Light and Haru began to regularly visit Child Services to finalize their paperwork and tripped Dumbledore’s monitoring spell _they had no idea where he was._

Severus Snape blinked in confusion in the split-second he had to realize that his shouted _Obliviate_ failed to produce the usual effect before Light punched him in the face. 

Light was a strategist, not a fighter. He generally didn’t like to get physical and (despite the alarming number of people he’d killed) he wasn’t actually very fond of violence. That didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared for such a scenario—Light knew what his own father did for a living was dangerous and that there were plenty of evil people out there that might want to hurt him because of it so he had learned some self-defense lessons from a young age and, having a near eidetic memory, the words of Light’s martial arts instructor immediately sprang to mind: 

_“If you ever get into a fight, remember—the faster you finish it the better your chances of survival will be. If you let it drag on that means you’re in trouble. If you can, put your opponent down with one strike.”_

Light took that lesson to heart… in life as well as in the context of fighting. 

So when the strange, stick-wielding man attacked him, Light erupted out of his seat, throwing all his weight behind the punch that solidly connected with his attacker’s face, breaking the man’s enormous nose in the process. Even Light was surprised by the force of his punch when the greasy man went sailing across the room, through the open door, and collided hard with the opposite wall before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. 

Light cautiously approached the downed man to make sure he stayed that way. 

“Stay put,” Light ordered when Haru attempted to follow him and Mrs. Stevens called security. 

_“Filthy muggle,”_ the man wheezed out before Light hit him again, knocking him out or, as would later be written up in the official police report, _“he helped escort the suspect to the floor.”_

He would have to use the duct tape Mrs. Stevens so graciously provided to restrain him, seeing as he was sadly lacking in handcuffs. 

**“Wow…”** Ryuk whistled beside him. **“That human has very hairy wrists. That’s gonna hurt when they take it off.”**

Light smirked sadistically. How unfortunate for him. Light’s first impression of the greasy-haired man was that he was some sort of pervert because he appeared to be wearing some sort of bathrobe and nothing else and had been waving a stick at them—a pervert that Light had noted had eyes for his son... 

Light casually snapped a picture of the man’s ugly face with his cellphone. Misa would take care of it later—a nice suicide might be appropriate. 

“Is he wearing… robes?” Mrs. Steven asked haltingly, her finely manicured hand covering her mouth in alarm. 

“Some sort of cult?” Light mused aloud.

Mrs. Stevens paled. “Perhaps it would be for the best if he left the country.” 

She seemed almost frightfully helpful after that. Light noted that she no longer had that glassy look in her eyes she had gained when insulting him and Haru. Light frowned—it was almost as if she had been controlled by the Notebook… but that couldn’t be right—she wasn’t dead… unless she was still being controlled but to what end? No, it appeared she’d broken whatever control she was under. Perhaps there were other people with the same power as Haru and they could use their powers to control people? A power that controlled people that didn’t kill them… but wasn’t as effective in controlling the subjects as the Death Note? 

Light shook his head—he could ponder that later. Right now, they just needed to get out of here, the sooner they were away from here the better, and to do that… they needed to complete all the paperwork. 

“So I just sign here?” the young man asked with an affable smile to conceal the nerves he felt whenever he had to sign his own name (owning a Death Note would do that to you—he only had to write a name in his notebook and that person dies—such power shouldn’t be taken lightly). That and the reality was setting in on what he was about to do—these were the last of the forms they had to fill out. After this it would be official. 

He was going to be a _father._

Frankly, Light was terrified. 

He wasn’t ready for this. Hell, he didn’t think he’d _ever_ be ready. Or qualified. Though Light much preferred to think of himself as a good person deep down and in his saner moments… beneath delusions of martyrdom and perhaps a slight God complex… Light knew exactly what he was. He was Kira—a _mass murderer_ (even if Light firmly believed that _they all had it coming_ ); a murderer that the masses worshipped as a vengeful God.

In short, he was well aware that he wasn’t exactly good babysitting material. 

It wasn’t the act itself that had him worried— _sure_ he could play the part. When called upon he could be a perfect son to his parents, the doting brother to his sister, and the intellectual rival and tennis buddy to the Great Detective L. So really, what was one more mask? He could be whatever, and _whoever,_ he needed to be to advance his agenda. 

…Except for the fact that _that much_ personal responsibility petrified him.

It was one thing to play God from the comfort of his bedroom—that was anonymous and any… mishaps didn’t affect him personally… not unless he got caught which he didn’t intend to do. 

Also there was the small matter that this wasn’t exactly a part of his agenda. He had not, in his wildest dreams, planned for something like this, but he could improvise, his plans were mutable and adaptable and so was he.

Hell, this wasn’t why he came to England. No, naturally he was here, using a class-sponsored summer trip as an excuse, to search for leads on L’s real name. Though as far as the world was concerned he was just “improving his English and studying English culture.” So far he had learned that it rained all the time, the food was too greasy and heavy, and he missed proper Japanese green tea. He certainly hadn’t expected to return to Japan as a _father_ —not that he hadn’t made any headway into his original purpose before he ended up on this particular tangent.

He even had a possible name.

After intensive searching of English orphanages Light had found records of a child born “Leo Charlus Potter” who _could_ have conceivably been a young L—the photos he’d found showed a young boy with messy black hair, clear, pale skin, and large dark eyes. He even had the bad posture, insomnia, and horrible eating habits even then! How L survived even this long Light had no clue—it was like magic. 

Though of course _after_ Light learned all this Ryuk had ever helpfully informed him that this information was probably useless now, since the boy was adopted out quite young (by a man who Light decided _could_ have been a young Watari, though Light was having trouble imagining him without the grey hair, trench coat, and fedora.) He probably considered his new name to be his true name and that would be the name he needed to kill him with the notebook. Knowing his luck L probably moved to France and changed it to L Le’douche or something like that.

And _of course_ Ryuk waited to tell him that _after_ Light had wasted a month researching. 

_Ugh!_ The damn Shinigami could be so… _infuriating._

Light suppressed a disappointed sigh and reasoned it was far too early to kill L anyway. It would be too suspicious if he dropped dead not two months after meeting Chief Yagami’s son who he declared a Kira suspect, after all. 

Still it was almost enough to want to exile the Shinigami to the couch if he didn’t think he’d get into more trouble there (such as that one time he'd pranked Light's sister, Sayu, while she was watching the Hideki Ryuuga marathon). He would have restricted his apples had Haru not taken to giving Ryuk his. (This was bad. If he couldn’t properly discipline his Death God what hope did he _possibly_ have of reigning in his five year old son? He couldn’t in good conscience apply his usual punishments. He just hoped that the “I’m very disappointed” speech he had prepared would be enough.) 

After that failed attempt at learning his nemesis’s name Light had spent most of his summer break fighting the bureaucracy in order to take custody of his son. While aggravating it wasn’t nearly to the level of being constantly accused of mass murder so Light still viewed it as a vacation. Light wanted to make sure everything was nice and legal so there would be no custody issues later. Only after he started the process did he realize it might have been easier if they had just taken the next flight to Japan—the Dursleys had already signed over custody so legally, the child was already his son and this was just a formality. The only problem was it turned out there were no records of this child existing in the system to begin with. 

No birth certificate. No hospital records.

 _Nothing._

Apparently when the child had started school the Dursleys had bribed school administrators to look the other way. They only knew his name because of the forms and the Dursleys signed over the custody of “Harry Potter.” The boy seemed to be under the impression that his name was “Freak” which made Light want to punish the Dursleys all over again. Alas, Vernon Dursley and Petunia Evans Dursley were already dead—they just didn’t know it yet. Their names were already written in the Death Note set up to die in two weeks time. By that time Light and Ryuk would be back in Japan with their new son. 

Though Kira’s usual signature cause of death, a heart attack, didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility for either Vernon with his morbid obesity nor even Petunia who seemed to think starvation was a sound diet plan for herself (as well as her nephew) but Light didn’t want anyone potentially linking their deaths to Kira when he was in the country and there was no mass media coverage of the event. 

So Light had set them up to die in a car crash—that just seemed fitting somehow. His only regret after this new information had come to light was that he hadn’t been _more creative_ with their deaths. 

His research into L wasn’t a total loss though. In his spare moments between mountains of paperwork (killer and otherwise) Light learned a bit more about his investigative findings and of what could possibly be the detective’s birth name—Leo, Latin for lion, was also a star constellation and Charlus was apparently another way to spell “Charles.” There was also a rumor at the orphanage that Leo had had a twin brother (a Jim or James or a Jamie or something like that) and that the Potters only put Leo up for adoption and kept James. It was quite a scandal—that they just abandoned their, at the time, perfectly healthy baby. A perfectly healthy baby who was so very _smart_ —but apparently he still wasn’t _special_ enough for the Potters… Light violently shook his head—he couldn’t believe he was actually starting to _feel sorry_ for L. If he kept that up the detective would be sending him to the gallows for sure. Soft smiles and shared strawberry cakes aside the detective wasn’t his friend. It certainly was all just a ploy to get him to lower his guard. Honestly, who tries to befriend a _mass murderer?_

In any case all that was pretty irrelevant—he still didn’t have what L would consider his true name and it seemed he’d come to an investigative dead end. Besides, Potter was a rather common surname in the English-speaking world—it was like Suzuki or Satō—apparently even his new charge had originally had the surname of Potter. 

Now wouldn’t that be ironic if they were actually related? 

Perhaps the boy was L’s long forgotten nephew or something that the oh-so-Great Detective was too much of an asshole to take care of. 

Though that hardly mattered now even if that was true… 

The boy was his. His and Ryuk’s... and Misa’s… well, mostly Ryuk’s. (He’d be Ryuk’s son if he got in trouble.) He wasn’t about to get mad at the child just because he might be related to L. Hell, _he_ was probably related to L—genius of _their level_ was so rarely found in all of humanity, it only made sense. And according to that one scientific journal he’d read at the bus stop everyone in the world was related to everyone… at least twice and if you want genetic diversity you should go for a “tall, dark, exotic stranger.” 

Well, no wonder he was attracted to Ryuk. Not that it mattered anyway since he very much doubted either of them could get pregnant. 

Which brought him back to the issue at hand—Light had never expected to become a father but that had been alright by him—he was content to be something of a father-figure, a God, for the entire world. 

He hadn’t expected to _want_ to be a father either. 

And not just a father but a _good father._

The Dursleys had set a low bar but Light wanted, no _needed_ to be so much better than that because what would it say about him if he did no better than common child abusers? 

And for that matter, this _wasn’t about him,_ not really. 

Light was aware he could be… a bit full of himself. 

Well, he was a genius, handsome, God of the New World, and obviously Chosen to rid the world of evil. 

How could he not be? 

Still, Light was aware that Haru deserved better than that. 

He couldn’t very well change who he was but he would at least _try_ to reign in his… eccentricities of genius just a bit for the sake of his son—at the very least he’d close and lock the door before kissing any mirrors. He wouldn’t be telling Haru about Kira anytime soon either. That was much too big a secret for a five year old to handle. Nor was Light concerned about Haru finding out that he’d been keeping secrets from him. Light kept secrets from everyone even before finding the Death Note. It was just his nature. His parents and sister weren’t in on his secrets either. Haru already knew more than any of them, having met Ryuk, and had not reacted negatively. And if one day Haru did find out about Kira… Light was confident that Haru would only find out under Light’s own terms and only if he thought his son would be accepting of Kira. 

Of course Light let none of his doubts show upon his face as he signed his name. 

Not even when, unseen by the social worker, Ryuk chuckled and clapped him on the back. 

**“Happy Father’s Day. I’m sure Misa will be thrilled.”**

Light concealed a wince—in order to authenticate all this he was going to have to propose to and probably one day marry Misa. At the very least he was going to have to move in with her so that they could play house together properly. And while moving out of his parents’ house would give him more freedom to act as Kira well… there was Misa herself. Misa was very helpful to him—she had bargained for the Shinigami eyes and assisted him in killing evil-doers. It’s just she could be a bit… overly-attached and he wasn’t at all interested in women. Light thought they had come to an understanding now but he was still worried that his becoming engaged to her would create unrealistic expectations regarding their relationship. 

Misa was an actress—surely she should be able to get the concept that there was a big difference between _acting_ and _being._ He had explained it was just for Haru’s sake. And as far as he was concerned if they went through with it, it would be a fairly open marriage—if she wanted to devote herself to him as she had been doing that was fine. If she wanted to see other people, that was fine too. But if they had children of their own it would definitely be through a test tube because while she was a very attractive girl he was not, nor would he _ever be,_ interested in girls. 

Light massaged his temples in between retrieving the next document. He knew Haru deserved better than this… better than _him_ and it would seriously cramp his style as an aspiring God to be shackled with a kid but... but apparently _there was no one else_ and the system kept sending the child back to his abusers. It was up to him… even though he knew that Haru needed and deserved far more love and care than he was probably capable of giving him. Personal issues and homicidal hobbies aside Light had college, social obligations, and of course his part-time job with the police hunting himself—his attention would always be divided. Light supposed Haru would also have Misa but she too would be busy. Misa had her businesses—her band, her acting and modeling career, TV shows, and fashion line. Not to mention acting as the Second Kira, so she was pretty busy too… but Ryuk and Rem… the Shinigami had no such obligations and could devote their full attention to raising Haru. 

Well, Ryuk anyway. Ryuk might not be on his side but Light was pretty sure he’d have his help for this—Ryuk absolutely adored the kid and was already showering the boy with fatherly affection that Light thought himself incapable of giving. And then there was Misa... surely Misa would know what to do—she was an orphan too! (Though, naturally, when he did eventually broach the subject with her he would find a more tactful way of putting it.) And maybe Rem… Assuming Haru could see Rem like he could inexplicably see Ryuk. Though Light wasn’t so sure about Rem; when they first met she threatened to kill him so that didn’t leave a very favorable impression. Light wasn’t sure if he could count on her for this or not. Well Rem seemed the protective type but so far only towards Misa. He supposed if Misa was on board with this Rem would help too in order to please Misa but Light still didn’t trust her very much, especially with his son. And Light wasn’t sure if leaving the kid to be raised by Shinigami was the best parenting option either. 

Well they say it takes a village… 

He’d make sure to have more… _normal_ people over often to visit and to babysit. Normal people like Yamamoto, Matsuda, Sayu, Nori, his parents, Misa’s friends… 

Just… normal people who were not… _damaged_ like Misa (or like him.) 

Hopefully that would balance things out. He wasn’t about to raise his son to be a killer if he could help it. He would much rather his son got the chance to be an upright member of society… the person _he_ should have, no _would_ have been… had _fate_ not chosen him for another purpose. 

Boasting to Ryuk and declarations of Godhood aside, privately—in the horrible place that was his head—Light wasn’t actually proud of all he had done… but still felt it _had_ to be done for the sake of the world… or for the sake of his sanity and to Light that was really one and the same—he had to believe he acted in the name of the greater good or he was lost. Light particularly wasn’t proud of his clashes with the police—especially his own father. In a perfect world he wouldn’t be condemned by the very people he was trying to help. 

His perfect world was a work in progress. 

In short Light wanted his son to be one of the good people who lived good lives… and not like him. When he was older if Haru wanted to carry on his legacy and Kira’s justice… if that was his choice he wouldn’t stop him but it was not Light’s intention to bring an innocent into his war with L. Had there been anyone more qualified he would have gone along with the social worker’s suggestion that he leave Haru with a “nice British family…” but there wasn’t. They kept trying to send him back to the Dursleys. Clearly this was the only option. He could not leave the child at the mercy of a system that failed the boy again and again. Besides Ryuk, and more importantly _Haru_ had _chosen him, needed him,_ and Light just couldn’t let that go. 

So Light resolved to be the best father to Haru that he could possibly be. 

That was particularly worrying for Light… _he had actually grown attached._ Attached to what in the beginning had just been another potential pawn and means of controlling a security risk. 

And the boy was a security risk—a security risk he was already thinking of as “his son.” 

Light frowned to himself. His normal response to such a risk would be to get rid of it. He had considered it but ultimately decided that he couldn’t justify it to himself. It would be easy… too easy and all too simple. He had the child’s name—a name the boy hadn’t even known because of his beastly caretakers—beastly caretakers who had tried to shove the boy into traffic. No, he would rather not have that in common with those scumbags. _Who does that to a child?_ Such filth had no place in Kira’s perfect world. Light could justify many things in the name of justice but there were lines that not even he would willingly cross. Seriously, what kind of monster went around killing children? 

It had been Ryuk’s idea to adopt him and any slip ups about his secrets could just be attributed to a child’s wild imagination. The answer seemed so simple when the Shinigami proposed it that it made him feel stupid that he hadn’t thought of it first. Light wasn’t sure when exactly it happened but at some point “kill it” had become his first response whenever he encountered a problem. Come to think of it, that was probably another reason he _shouldn’t_ be a father. Well, at least he had Ryuk to keep him in check. 

For some reason Ryuk had taken an instant liking to the child, who he’d taken to calling “the little Master” and “little King” much to Light’s annoyance. (Despite what the stupid Shinigami might say, he was _not_ jealous! It’s just… Ryuk was _his_ Shinigami. He should be his Master! Though, admittedly, the boy probably needed the self-esteem boost more than he did—after all, not everyone could be The God of a New World—and Ryuk was quick to reassure him that he was his most interesting human so he could learn to live with Ryuk’s kid… And that is essentially what happened. _Ryuk_ adopted Harry Potter. It was just that the Shinigami, obviously, couldn’t take legal custody so it fell on his bondmate, _Light,_ to adopt him _for_ him. Light had long ago realized it was better to just give Ryuk what he wanted then have to listen to his constant whining (and more often than not receiving that worshipful look from the Shinigami was well worth it anyway. Dammit, a Shinigami had no right to be so damned cute!) Hell, he was sure _Ryuk_ would make a better father than he would, despite his name being the one on the paper. Light, admittedly, didn’t have much of a role model in this regard. Light’s own father, Souichiro Yagami, was a good man but he wasn’t really a good father. Sure, his heart was in the right place but… it was hard to be a good father when you were never there. Light didn’t want to repeat those same mistakes with his own son. Even though he’d already decided Ryuk was more of the kid’s father than he was… he would _make time_ for Haru. He would be the best father he could possibly be. This kid had had a horrible home life and needed all the care and attention he could get. 

Speaking of which… another failing that Light, privately, found about his own father was that he was regularly and needlessly foolish and reckless with his own life… Light couldn’t help resent him a bit for that—that he seemed to care more about his job and the adventure than the family he would potentially be leaving behind. 

Light frowned again. Before he had felt his life was his to sacrifice for the good of the world but now… now there were others who looked to him for protection. Light determined he would need to make a will and arranged for Haru (and he supposed Misa as well) to be taken care of in case either he or Misa or both of them were captured or killed. It wasn’t something he liked to think about but, _dammit,_ despite his best judgment he did care about the kid, he was an innocent, and Light wanted to make sure he wasn’t punished for his, _Kira’s,_ actions. And though Ryuk liked the kid he couldn’t look out for him alone. 

Light decided Matsuda would be a good choice if something happened to them and made the appropriate arrangements, getting an agreement with the man over the phone. (This would also serve to inform the taskforce to his change in status because his coworker was an insufferable gossip.) 

Matsuda though often teased as being “an idiot” by his coworkers was actually reliable enough. He had a steady job, taskforce connections, and was sympathetic to Kira. If not for the fact that he and Ryuk had both grown attached, and that the excited five year old might (without his coaxing) blab about Ryuk he might have considered handing over guardianship to Matsuda in the beginning. 

“Okay, Haru,” Light addressed the impatient looking child who had been pouting and, impressively, trying not to fidget as he filled out forms. 

“You need to sign your old name and sign your new name, just like we practiced.” 

Which he did with enthusiasm. 

As promised, Light let him pick a cool name: 

夜神 陽

Yagami Haru. 

Or, as written in the English way—Haru Yagami. 

He’d chosen that name for a number of reasons. For one “Haru” sounded close to Harry. While the boy wasn’t particularly attached to his English name seeing as he thought his name was “Freak” for most of his life so far but it had been nice to learn that he had an actual name other than “Freak” or “Boy” or “Abo-mah-na-shon” whatever that was (it sounded bad). However, he was moving to Japan now to live with Light and Ryuk, something he was quite excited about, but he’d learned that “Hari” meant “needle” in Japanese and he didn’t want to be a needle. But the name Haru—he had just felt almost magically drawn to it, it was _perfect_ , and it also allowed him to honor both his birthparents, because it sounded kind of like “Harry” and his new fathers—the boy had learned that Haru written with the kanji character 陽 meant “sun” or “sunlight.” Similar but different from his father’s name, whose name literally was the English word “Light” which Haru had learned to his amusement was, for whatever reason, written with the kanji for moon 月. They were the sun and moon—that just seemed _nice_ somehow. 

Light had informed him that the character he was studying 陽 also meant Yang or positive energy of the Taoist Yin and Yang symbol or Taijitu (which Light had helpfully drew for him on a restaurant paper napkin and later gifted to him as a necklace for his birthday when Haru took an interest in it and kept drawing it in the margins of his notebook): 

☯ 

Simplistically, it was a symbol of good and evil but unlike the Western concept that good and evil were always diametrically opposed to each other (which Light actually, for the most part, found more appealing) the Taoist symbol recognized the concepts as interconnected and both sides relied on the other. 

Light (echoing his own father) thought it complacent to just accept Evil as part of the natural order but indulged Haru when he decided the symbol was “cool” and further explained the symbolism of his name. 

The Yang symbol, or the character that made up his name 陽, was the white section of the Taijitu with the black dot in it and apparently was associated with the sun, strength, power, and masculinity and represented good (but with just a little bit of evil in it.) 

The other side, the black section with the white dot, Yin was associated with the moon, femininity, the underworld, and treachery. It was evil with a little bit of good in it. 

Light told him it fit him because Haru was a good boy. 

Haru would later learn that the moon kanji 月that spelled Light’s name sometimes was associated with Yin but he decided not to mention it. He didn’t think it quite fit. Associated with the underworld? Sure, Light was best friends with a Shinigami but Light couldn’t possibly be evil! Nor was he a girl and Haru didn’t want to hurt his father’s feelings by bringing it up. 

However, at the time, most of this information went right over the five-year-old Haru’s head but he did remember seeing that symbol on the window of a martial arts school. (Haru decided he wanted to learn martial arts. He’d seen the way his father had handled the man who attacked them and he wanted to be able to do that too—that way he could protect himself and wouldn’t get beat up by kids like Dudley and Piers ever again.) 

And then there was the third reason he picked the name Haru—he found it honored Ryuk as well as Light. Because while his name was Japanese it was pronounced the same as another Haru (Light explained that in languages this concept was known as “false friends”) —it was also another name for Hor or Horus, the Egyptian Sky God. 

A two-page spread of the mythology book Light had bought him when he learned the Dursleys deprived him of learning anything about magic or fairy tales showed him Haru the God—the artwork depicted a dark-skinned man with a falcon’s head, a huge crown upon his head, a scepter in his grasp, and dark feathered shoulder pads that kind of reminded him of Ryuk. 

The newly-named Haru decided Gods were cool. Ryuk was glad he thought so—apparently he was one. That’s when Haru first learned that “Shinigami” was Japanese for “God of Death.” 

That sounded scary but then, as his book explained, Death was a necessary function and just because he was a God of Death didn’t mean he was evil. Ryuk was very nice to him. And then there was his book—it mentioned Anubis who judged the wicked but allowed good people to rest in peace. He seemed like a pretty nice guy too. 

Haru pondered this as he watched his new guardians. 

Ryuk was a God so maybe Light was one too? He just seemed to give that impression… And why else would a God like Ryuk do what he said? 

Haru’s pen strokes were clumsy as he signed his name, nowhere near as pretty or elegant as Light’s careful script, but apparently it did the job. Still Haru resolved to improve his handwriting… in _both_ languages. 

*** 

Light attempted to quietly open a package of potato chips, trying not to wake the adorable young boy (who once again sporting black hair but still retaining that eerie familial resemblance) that was currently sleeping in the seat next to him. He slept, hugging Ryuu, the black dragon plushie that Light and Ryuk got him for his birthday. 

Ryuk idly floated over both of them, looking out the window (and holding onto the back of Light’s seat so he didn’t space out and forget to travel _with_ the plane like last time). He could’ve just flown back but where was the fun in that? He did that all the time and this was only the second time he’d ever been on a human aircraft and the bored Shinigami found the whole experience to be quite nifty. 

Light cringed at the unexpectedly loud rustling of his chip bag but breathed a sigh of relief when the noise failed to rouse the sleeping child. Haru just yawned most cutely and snuggled into his side, using him as a pillow. It looked like he wouldn’t be moving for several hours. 

Ryuk cackled at his misfortune. 

Light glared and idly pocketed the apple that came with the in-flight meal—Ryuk wouldn’t be getting it until they had safely landed in Japan. 

In the meantime, the young boy dreamed of dragons and death gods while the plane rushed them towards the next new chapter in their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for all the great comments here. 
> 
> Apologies, it was marked as 1/1 because I was considering writing this as a series of short stories but decided that might be too difficult to keep track of it. So the next few chapters are basically just more vignettes in this universe. I'll post them when I get a minute. Also shorter chapters for faster updates. 
> 
> Additional notes:  
> For this AU expect anachronism stew set in some ill-defined "eternal present" because Harry Potter canon set in the 80s-90s while Death Note canon is set in the 00s-10s. The timeline has been moved forward since the Internet is very important to the plot of Death Note. 
> 
> The author is neither British nor Japanese and is relying on the Internet for research so please tell me if you spot any glaring errors and I'll fix it if I can.
> 
> Haru refers to Light as "father," Ryuk is "dad," and Misa is "mom." 
> 
> Death Toll so far: Vernon Dursley, Petunia Evans Dursley, Severus Snape, plus all canon deaths for Death Note as of the beginning of Light’s college career.

Haru’s first impression of Misa was that she wasn’t at all what he was expecting. In some ways she and his father seemed complete opposites—while his father could be stern and cold Misa seemed warm and cheerful—despite dressing like she was getting ready to attend a funeral. She dressed an awful lot like Ryuk, Haru realized when he stopped to think about it… though with a lot more lace and ribbons and stuff. Haru got the feeling that Aunt Petunia wouldn’t approve of her either but given how his aunt and uncle were, Haru had already determined that anything that his aunt and uncle didn’t approve of could only be good for him. Only much later would Haru realize that his new mom wasn’t as happy as she seemed to be and that she had more in common with his father than he first surmised. 

***

Misa had a Shinigami too, just like Light, though this time Haru did not mistake her for a dinosaur. In his defense he was only four when he first met Ryuk. But he’d had a birthday since then and now he was five and so much older and wiser. His dad had been perfectly good-natured about his mistake and seemed more amused than anything else—they even watched _Jurassic Park_ together once while father was out running errands—it had to be while Light was out. His father would not have approved of Haru watching it—he thought Haru was much too young to be watching such gory movies and was worried they would give him nightmares. Haru thought that was grossly unfair—he knew for a fact that Dudley watched it and far more violent movies as well (while he never got to _see_ any of Dudley’s movies but he could hear the sounds of screams and the roar of chainsaws from behind his cupboard door.) He wasn’t scared! Haru knew it was fake—the dinosaurs didn’t even look real—they didn’t even have feathers! He was not scared—that was not why he hid behind Ryuk when the T-rex roared on the screen or when the velociraptors hunted the kids—he was just observing everything from what his father would call a “tactical position”—that’s all. 

In any case there was no mistaking Rem for a dinosaur. Rem more resembled a skeleton or a mummy or some sort of living (or at the very least _sentient_ ) Halloween decoration and Haru thought she was actually kind of pretty. Her one visible golden eye was slanted and had slit pupils like that of a cat—the other, or where the other might have been, was hidden behind a white bandage that she had casually wrapped around her forehead like a headband. Rem wore earrings just like dad, though hers were golden hoops instead of the single silver heart that dangled from Ryuk’s ear and instead of Ryuk’s shark grin, Rem’s canines were small and cute, like you’d see on a kitten, peeking out as a slight overbite between her violet lips. She had a matching violet tattoo—a simple purple line that traced her jaw line on either side of her face that Haru thought looked pretty cool. Her hair, too, was purple though streaked with white and kind of looked like it was made out of snakes—like Medusa from the book of mythology his father had gotten for him. Overall Haru thought she was pretty cool.

However, as Haru soon discovered, she didn’t like him very much. Haru supposed her first impression of him wasn’t helped any when he _hissed_ at her. He hadn’t meant to! In fact he was _trying_ to say “Hello” but what came out instead was: _“~Sēthāsshathehihayaēh~!”_

The Shinigami was clearly more than a little _unnerved_ by that. 

Even with his nervousness at meeting new people Haru still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to mess up _that_ badly. Though perhaps it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway—apparently Rem didn’t like his father very much so she didn’t like him either since Haru had taken to wearing his face all the time. Haru had discovered that his freakishn— _powers_ allowed him to change his appearance and since he was often called ugly by his… _biological_ relatives as well as stupid and worthless he’d changed his face as soon as he realized he could, immediately mimicking his new father, his _savior._ Light was smart, and handsome, and _not worthless_ and everything Haru wanted to be. (He was going to be someone else now—not the pathetic freak under the stairs. _Never again._ ) He kept his black hair and green eyes as an homage to who he had been and in honor of his birthparents he could no longer remember. Though they hadn't been there for him on account of being dead they had at least cared enough about him to give him a real name that wasn’t “Freak” so Haru supposed that was worth something. But everything else about him had changed. Now everywhere he went Haru was quite often told he was quite a handsome child… though Rem clearly didn’t agree. 

Apparently you couldn’t please everyone. Haru’s brief attempt to mimic Rem and later Misa (he’d managed to get Misa’s hair down, blonde pigtails and all, before deciding that that look wasn’t really for him) in an effort to sooth Rem’s obvious dislike for him but that seemed to have backfired horribly. In fact he’d somehow managed to creep the Shinigami out even more—apparently a human wearing a Shinigami’s face was quite disturbing to all who witnessed it so he stopped trying to mimic Rem—his dad, Ryuk, was okay with it though so Haru practiced making Ryuk’s face. If he really strained it he could get it mostly down, teeth and all, but he still couldn’t get his eyes quite right—it always felt like something was _missing._ In any case such a look was generally not recommended for public outings on days other than Halloween. 

It seemed Rem wasn’t any happier about his attempts at mimicking Ryuk. Haru hadn’t thought it possible to scare a Shinigami and yet Rem seemed… _nervous_ around him and Light and especially nervous when he hung out with Misa. In fact it seemed she took offense if he spent a lot of time with Misa—which was tough because Haru really liked Misa and Misa liked playing with him too and spent most of her time with him when she wasn’t working.

However, even though Rem didn’t seem to like him very much at least she was quiet—she was no shrieking harridan like his aunt and she didn’t try to hurt him either—in fact after their first meeting she mostly ignored his presence. It was a shame—Haru would have liked to have been her friend but then, perhaps he was just becoming spoiled—before he had _no friends_ but then, after getting away from the Durselys and up until now he’d managed to make friends with most everyone. 

He wanted to make friends with _everyone._

All of his father’s friends were very nice to him—so were all the doctors and the police officers. In the end he’d even won over the social workers! And, for the most part, even the kids at his new school liked him. Unfortunately, as his father put it, “that while being friends with everyone was a laudable goal that was just not feasible.” (Haru often had to have a dictionary on hand when he spoke with his father—Light was really smart and tended to use big words without really thinking about it and while Light encouraged him to ask questions if he was confused on something Haru found that most of the time he liked figuring things out on his own.) 

Light was the one who taught him that some people will always be disagreeable and not everyone in the world _has_ to like you and it was okay to be okay with yourself regardless. Rem was _polite,_ she didn’t go out of her way to be mean to him—she just didn’t like him. He supposed he could live with that. Haru supposed it could have been worse—he was worrying that Misa and Rem would be like his aunt. Just as he had first been nervous when Light and Ryuk first took him into their care he had been deathly afraid that one or both of them would turn out to be another Vernon. 

But it wasn’t like that—even on the rare occasions Light became angry with him he never hit him nor did he ever raise his voice without a good reason. More often than not Light would merely be _disappointed_ in him. Haru didn’t want Light disappointed in him. He wanted him to be proud in him! So Haru always did his best. However even if he did screw up he found that Light would, at most, restrict his privileges—there was no cupboard here, and he never denied him food as punishment. (Haru still felt bad whenever Ryuk got “no apples” though no matter how many times they explained that Ryuk didn’t need to eat. Haru would often sneak him some—even though Haru got the sense his father somehow knew exactly what he was doing.) 

However Haru’s concerns were for naught—Misa wouldn’t be hitting him with a frying pan either. Haru realized he had done them both a disservice. While Misa and Light weren't exactly the perfect human beings they first seemed to be they were not the Dursleys. He wasn’t sure why he had been expecting Misa to be a carbon copy of his aunt. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting her to have the same personality when it was clear from the offset they were different people—this cheerful, petite Japanese model with shockingly blonde pigtails and bright blue eyes was a far cry from his horrid, sneering, horse-faced aunt. Well, they both had blonde hair but Misa was naturally a brunette—her signature blonde and blue-eyed look was achieved with hair dye and colour contacts—the _Gyaru_ look, Misa explained, combined with Gothic Lolita… and that was just the beginning of Haru’s unconscious education into Japanese fashion trends.

Misa was like his aunt in one respect thought—they both hid behind a perfect, smiling mask. For that matter so did Light but Haru figured that unlike Petunia, Light’s desire to look normal was less about what the _neighbor’s thought_ and more about wanting to keep his secret identity in tact—just like a superhero. Or that’s how Haru had reasoned it—being able to see and speak to Shinigami was apparently some sort of superpower that most people couldn’t do so he was probably either a superhero or a God of some sort considering he hung out with a God of Death… or both. (He could be like Thor… or Loki. Probably more like Loki since he was smart… except that he didn’t go around destroying cities.) Though talking to Death Gods seemed to be his only power.

Well, that didn’t really matter—even if Light couldn’t fly or punch through walls or single-handedly defeat armies of ninjas he would always be his hero. Besides maybe Light’s skill set was more low key—he seemed more like a Batman kind of guy or some sort of supergenius (though those more often seemed to be villains) because what he lacked in superpowers he made up for in being prepared for absolutely everything. 

When Haru realized that Misa was also putting up a front he had at first attributed it to her also being a superhero of sorts—or a secret goddess—after all she had her own Shinigami too so she must also have powers and her own secret identity she was maintaining. But it was more than that. Misa attempted to appear cheerful and energetic _all the time._ He’d learn that, in part, his mom’s cheerful act was to help benefit her career—while Misa wasn’t too concerned about what the neighbors thought either she had to be at least a bit concerned about what her _fans_ thought—it was just good business.

However, as his mom would later confide, she had begun so smiling even before she was famous—it was just the way she had coped with all the bad things that had happened to her. Misa had lost her parents too—they were murdered and it had happened right in front of her. Haru felt awful for thinking about it, but he was suddenly glad he was too young to remember the accident that claimed the lives of his own parents in great detail—he didn’t even remember the car. In fact all he remembered of the incident was some strange flash of green light and he wasn’t even sure if what he was remembering was a true memory or just a dream. 

Haru knew many of the things that Light and Misa did were fake, _an act,_ but he understood—sometimes you had to pretend you were something you were not in order to survive. Both Misa and Light knew the value of hiding behind a smile—that if you behave in a way that was polite, nice, happy people tended to like you more and the malicious words of others could not stick so easily. Such a mask made an effective armor against their petty resentment. So Haru learned to smile too. 

Haru had already known how to act a part—back at the Dursleys he had been forced to agree with his relatives whenever they called him a rotten delinquent, he had unwillingly played the part of the family servant, and he’d been forced to sabotage his own homework and fail every test in order to not get beat up by his uncle and cousin for doing better than Dudley. His father was still diligently working with him to break him of that now almost _ingrained_ habit. 

Haru wanted to do better—he knew that his father was the very best student when he was at school and all the teachers remembered his name. Even though Light had been trailed by his sister, Sayu, who was a so-so student that had not lessened the teachers’ expectations that Haru do his absolute best. 

And Haru wanted to do his absolute best for Light.

Light and Misa were more than willing to encourage him in his academic pursuits and even Ryuk was helpful on occasion (what with having an immortal’s knowledge of obscure history trivia.) 

Haru was pretty sure that even though his new family could be fake at times that their kindness towards him wasn’t fake. And even if it _was_ he would take their _act_ of caring over the Dursley’s “care” any day.

***

His mom was very pretty. 

Haru told her so. Misa had just laughed and told him it was her job to be—as glamorous as the magazines made it out to be in the end modeling was just a job. It meant early mornings and many boring hours in a makeup chair followed by many more exhausting hours of “hold that pose.” Misa admitted she was slightly envious of Haru’s ability to change his face on a whim. 

His mom had then wondered aloud if Haru might be able to skip the whole makeup step given his abilities. The agency did have need for child models for the department stores—he could probably have a career in modeling with the face he was currently wearing and for that matter so would his father… 

Light had dissuaded them on the grounds that it was best that Haru not to show off his powers. That, and when he had taken custody of Haru some shady character had seemingly been trying to subvert the system in order to return Haru to his relatives so it probably was not a good idea for Haru to be in the public eye right now even if the Dursley adults were no longer in the equation (Light had ensured that they had met an _unfortunate accident_ after their names had gone into a certain black notebook.)

Haru noticed that his father was also trying to keep his face out of the papers and had reasoned it probably had to do with his secret life as a superhero. Either that or he was embarrassed. That too seemed a possibility—especially given how Ryuk ribbed him about it later.

***

After taking them out to dinner at a fancy restaurant that catered to movie stars and politicians and served amazing foods that Haru couldn’t pronounce let alone describe, Misa had then taken them to their new home—it was an upscale, townhouse apartment with an intimidating looking gate around it (Misa had to give the _guards_ a buzz before they let them in). Haru, Light, and Ryuk were pleased to discover that living there also gave them access to a swimming pool, playground, and gym that could be found on the lower levels. Ryuk was especially excited about the pool but Light was unrelenting in his demands and that the same rules applied here as when they had their little “vacation” in England—Ryuk was not to go swimming if there were humans other than the family present. The same rule apparently applied to Rem, even though she expressed no interest in swimming. Haru agreed that that kind of sucked, but there was no help for it—people would freak out if a “ghost” began swimming with them or an invisible monster became not so invisible by treading water.

Of course Ryuk got his revenge by pushing Light into the pool when he wasn’t expecting it and getting him, and his nice expensive suit, all wet. 

Ryuk went on an apple-restrictive diet for a while after that. 

Haru, as always, felt kind of sorry for him when Ryuk began to twist up like a pretzel and tried to pass him a bit of his apple but this time the Shinigami, had surprisingly, declined not wanting to further upset Light or extend his apple ban any longer. 

“Why did you do that if you knew you’d get in trouble?” 

His dad just grinned. **“Worth it.”**

Ryuk apparently thought it was “cute” when Light shouted at him. 

Ryuk was so _weird._

Haru most definitely didn’t like it when people shouted at him. 

***

They had the entire top floor to themselves (which was next to unheard of—housing was very expensive in Japan but his mom was a famous idol and she made a _lot_ of money.) It was all very dramatic with deep red carpets, cream coloured walls, black marble countertops, and faucets of shiny crystal and gold. Misa had decorated, naturally, though the carpets were that dramatic shade of red mostly because she knew that Light’s favorite colour was red. Mom had the master bedroom. Sometimes father joined her—especially if Misa was sad—but, for the most part, Light lived in his office which had its own “guest bed” that just so happened to be big enough for both his father and his dad if they snuggled together—not that Ryuk needed to sleep, apparently, but Haru observed that the Shinigami seemed to enjoy beds anyway. 

***

Haru loved his new room and sometimes he still caught himself gaping at it in disbelief as he did when Misa had first shown it to him. The room was _huge_ (even larger than Dudley’s), in the center of which was a great Gothic canopy bed of dark mahogany with curtains and sheets of red and gold. Haru was pleased to discover that the canopy bed, like the child’s tent, could close up and give him some privacy. Also after having heard about his troubles when he first started living in the hotel with Light and Ryuk back in England, Misa had gotten him another child’s tent as well in case the bed again proved to be too much for him. That had been a problem for him in the beginning—Haru was used to his cupboard and the single ratty, dirty mattress the Dursley’s had given him and had scared him away from using a “proper bed.” Father had gotten him a child’s tent and futon so that he could sleep at night. Misa made sure he had those here as well and had insisted on getting him spares. While there was no boot cupboard and no familiar dust or spiders here there was Spider-man leaping around on the pattern of his tent. Haru had been making up for lost time with reading comic books and he liked Spider-man—he found the comic very relatable (well, other than the fact that Peter Parker’s aunt and uncle were actually nice. Maybe his home situation would have been similar if Doc Ock had succeeded in marrying Aunt May… but then Ock was _smart_ , not like his Uncle…) Haru didn’t think he’d need to use the tent that way now—he was mostly over his fear of open spaces and since the bed had a canopy that closed that would help even more but he did appreciate the gesture and he liked the tent—maybe they could all go camping sometime? (His dad seemed to think that was a good idea. His father had been less than enthusiastic about the prospect of sleeping out in the cold where they could be snacked on by insects.) Haru’s new canopy bed was nice and clean. It had plenty of blankets and dragon print sheets—Haru made sure it was always made and that his room was almost always nice and tidy because he could tell that that pleased his father immensely. 

His wall space was in the process of being eaten up by various _kakemono,_ hanging scrolls, of his favorite anime and manga (Misa had gotten him a subscription to _Weekly Shonen Jump_ and it had changed his life forever) as well as by the science posters Light had gotten for him—he had one of the periodic table of elements, one of the different wavelengths of the Milky Way galaxy, and a great star chart poster that taught him about stars and constellations—he could name many of them now: _Shishiza_ , the constellation Leo, _Ryuuza_ , the constellation Draco, _Uoza_ , the constellation Pisces, _Sasoriza_ , the constellation Scorpio, _Ooinuza_ , the constellation Canis Major, with _Tenrousei_ a.k.a. Sirius the Dog Star… In the corner he kept his new telescope and in the closet (he had his own _closet_ and it wasn’t like his _cupboard_ at all!) he kept his microscope, science kit, and a junior chemistry set. 

Haru wasn’t even sure what to do with all of the _stuff_ he was accumulating—everyone (especially his mom) kept getting him stuff! At this rate he was going to have more toys than even Dudley! He even had his own music player and J-Pop CDs gifted to him by his mom and auntie Sayu. His dad had helped him sort through everything and put it all away which at least made the huge pile somewhat manageable. (Light had remarked on how uncharacteristically helpful Ryuk was being though he was actually very much relieved that his Shinigami apparently had a soft spot for their son.) 

Haru now had a nice desk to work at and bookshelves filled with books (mostly courtesy of Light) and they were all _his._ Not discarded hand-me-downs trashed by his cousin. (Haru was still getting used to the notion that he was a world away from Privet Drive and he would never have to deal with cousin _ever again_ if he didn’t want to.) Along with age-appropriate children books he also had Japanese-to-English dictionaries, books on kanji, etiquette, and Japanese law to study from—Haru wanted to learn _everything_ and his father was happy to oblige him in his pursuits—most of the books Light selected for him were very helpful. Even Ryuk had, surprisingly, made some decent recommendations too regarding classical Japanese literature. When shopping for more books Haru picked up some more books on myths and legends because he found them very interesting as well as a book on calligraphy to help him with his penmanship. 

When he told his mom he enjoyed cooking as a hobby Misa got him his own library of cookbooks. She had also got him simplified books on the entertainment business, music history, and business management because, Misa explained, Haru had _asked_ and the books could explain things much better than she could. She also got him a book on managing fame just in case he wanted to pursue a career in entertainment or even just found himself in the limelight (a distinct possibility, she said, given he was such a charming young man. Also as he was the ward of Misa Amane he would probably end up in the public eye sooner or later just on account of that.) Light, or as he was known in the tabloids “Misa’s mystery fiancé,” had managed to avoid them so far by being “very reclusive,” “secrete,” and never being seen with Misa in public and as further misdirection he’d had Misa imply to the press that she had married an average, boring office worker (apparently not realizing that this would generate even more interest in him because now the press wanted to know how an average, ordinary office worker could attract the attentions of a _Goddess_ like Misa Amane.) 

Haru supposed that all of that might come in handy if he ever left his room. His room was just… _really fancy_ —as if the bed and all weren’t amazing enough the floor even had a carpet! And there was no dust and, unlike his old sleeping space back at Privet Drive, it was exceedingly rare to see spiders (or at least _real_ spiders… there was just Spider-man and some of his mom’s cool-looking jewelry that was in the _shape_ of spiders). To Haru his room was _huge_ —though at that point even a “cat’s forehead” or “rabbit hutch” type living space would have seemed impressive to the boy who had grown up in a boot cupboard.

But, more importantly this space was well and truly _his._

He was _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Simplified Parseltongue~  
> Sēthāsshathehihayaēh = Hello


	3. Chapter 3

Haru sat at his desk with a careful grip on his calligraphy pen. While the teacher might have accepted the work in crayon Haru wanted to learn to write well and with the proper tools from the start and there was no rule against NOT using a calligraphy pen. Haru had been _required_ by his former guardians to have lousy penmanship in English so he would never outshine their precious Dudley. But now, given a fresh start and far, far away from any Dudleys, he was trying to retrain his hand to write smoothly—he didn’t want to butcher the beautiful Japanese characters. He wanted to learn to write like his father did—when Light wrote it just seemed to flow majestically onto the page. 

Haru scowled, vexed by his current homework assignment. It was an innocent seeming prompt: “Tell us about yourself.”

About what? 

He wasn’t supposed to talk about the things he could do, like changing his face, fixing up his own hurts, make things move by _wanting_ it, and setting fires with his mind. 

Up until recently he hadn’t been allowed any hobbies either. Well at least that had changed recently but Haru still feared he sounded really boring or stupid _“I like TV, anime, reading, video games, web surfing, cooking, and gardening.”_

Cooking and gardening were the only chores he had found somewhat enjoyable. Well he liked cooking as long as his aunt wasn’t holding his hand against the stove or taking a swing at him with a frying pan and he didn’t much like gardening in the summer when his aunt sent him out in the sun shirtless and without sun block or even a hat in the hopes of giving him skin cancer. And then Dudley would eat ice cream in front of him—that hadn’t been much fun but he didn’t want to mention that. That was in the past and he was working to leave the past behind him. However he’d only recently acquired the other hobbies so he couldn’t go much into detail. Also because his player 2 was often a Shinigami...

Haru kind of got the sense that the teacher wanted them to talk about their families but that posed another problem since Haru counted the Shinigami among his family but he wasn’t supposed to talk about them with outsiders and then there was Misa and Light…

So far he’d just written _“My mom is an entrepreneur.”_ Haru figured the word (entrepreneur | 起業家 | kigyōka) fit since she had started up her own career, she had her own businesses, and fashion line in her name. He’d searched long and hard for a word that represented all that Misa was—he’d come up with that one though still found it lacking but his parents had said he shouldn’t mention Misa by name or that she was an idol because that was sort of a secret too—not as big as the other secrets but it would still be troublesome if everyone knew that his mom was a famous idol. 

Haru had been confused at first—that Misa was an idol was hardly a secret. In fact she was just in the commercial that was on TV! His father had further explained that it wasn’t that Misa being an idol was a secret, it was that _his mom_ was the famous idol Misa Amane was. It would be better if they could keep that a secret because people got crazy about celebrities… and their families. Haru supposed Light would know—he was a detective—it was his job to understand crazy. 

_“My father is a detective and so is his father, my grandfather. So I might be a detective too one day. Or not. I’m adopted—so I don’t know if I’d be any good at it.”_

He couldn’t really give details about his father’s work either because the case he was working on was pretty secret too.

Should he mention that maybe? That he had to keep a lot of secrets? 

No.

Announcing that he had secrets kind of defeated the purpose of keeping secrets because even if he didn’t tell anyone what they were upon learning there were secrets everyone would start to _guess_ and sooner or later someone would guess right. 

_“I love my new family. They are…”_ Haru paused—“good” didn’t seem a strong enough word— _“wonderful.”_

It didn’t seem fair to leave out Ryuk and even Rem because they were both a part of his family too—especially Ryuk. His dad was a big part of his life and the one sentence he managed to write that didn’t give anything away _“sometimes I hang out and read and play video games with my friend(s)”_ didn’t really encapsulate how important the Shinigami was to him. He supposed he should include Rem as well though, just to be fair. _“There’s a nice girl around where I live. Well she’s nice to my mom but not me. I was an idiot around her—my tongue slipped and I don’t know what I said but I think I must have said something rude because now she doesn’t like me.”_ Haru wrote that but, to his annoyance, there was still more space to fill. He _really_ didn’t want to mention the Dursleys but the “tell us about yourself” prompt still loomed large. That had been most of his life even if it wasn’t any more. _“Before I came to Japan I lived in England in a bad place with very bad people but it’s alright now because I don’t live there anymore.”_ Haru hurriedly scribbled yet still more space remained. Should he mention how he thought Kira had gotten them? 

Probably not. 

Haru had noticed the Dursleys were not announced among Kira’s victims—he only thought Kira had killed them because of something Light said and while he didn’t doubt his father’s word he didn’t know how he would phrase that in his report without it sounding weird. Not to mention that Kira seemed to be kind of a touchy subject. 

While his mom, along with many others, lit candles and prayed to Kira every night, the talk of Kira at school seemed pretty divided. And while Haru was relieved and thankful to be away from the Dursleys that was _Light’s_ doing, not Kira’s. Haru wasn’t sure about how he felt about the idea that his aunt and uncle might be dead. He was relieved to be away from them but he’d never wished them dead. 

Though that he hadn’t may have only been a matter of semantics—he hadn’t really grasped the concept of “dead.” For instance he knew his birthparents were dead… and yet he couldn’t help but foolishly hope that they would somehow reappear to take him away from that place. And many times in his short life he’d wished _he_ would disappear, maybe go away to wherever his parents were hiding or failing that just cease to be. That seemed less painful than existing. He’d never told anyone, not even Ryuk, about that one time he had _deliberately_ stepped off the roof when Vernon had him up there cleaning the storm drains. Falling had been so simple. It was the landing that was the hard part. For an instant he felt a worse pain than any of Vernon’s beatings combined and he felt his neck snap when he hit the ground. Everything went black.

But then he was back. 

His powers must have somehow brought him back. If he had to guess he’d been dead for only a few minutes. He’s lain there on the ground, dazed and confused for only a few minutes more before Vernon happened upon him and gone all purple. His uncle had then told him to quit slacking off in his own signature way—at the top of his lungs. He’d kicked him a few times and then told him to get back to work. 

Later when Haru had begun to realize that what the Dursleys were doing was unfair only then had he started to wish the _Dursleys_ would disappear instead of him. That they’d just go to that amusement park that Dudley kept boasting about and just decide to never come back.

He hadn’t _exactly_ wanted them dead but then he couldn’t say he was too broken up about it. Haru felt a sense of loss that the Dursleys, who he had worked so hard to please, would never accept him but then he’d already kind of knew that there was no hope of that. He only clung to the idea that they might just treat him better if he was just _somehow better_ because it was all he ever knew. He only felt kind of bad about the fact that he _didn’t_ feel bad. He knew he was _supposed to_ but even if they were allegedly “his family” they never acted like it. 

No, Haru was beginning to realize, they were _never_ his family—they never wanted him, they never loved him. 

Light and Ryuk and Misa— _they_ were his family—they fought for him, cared for him, and dare he even think… _loved_ him. He would fight anyone who said otherwise. 

Haru turned back to his assignment with frustration. 

_“I had birthparents but I don’t really remember them.”_

Though they were dead and he couldn’t really remember them his birthparents were also his family—they had given him a name other than "Freak" and the doctors said he was a healthy baby before he was left in his aunt and uncle’s care so his birthparents must have cared for him properly. But… he didn’t understand. That didn’t sound like something “useless drunks” would do. 

“What seems to be the trouble?” Light asked when he came in to check up on Haru only to find his son checking and rechecking his translations and obviously stalling at completing his homework. 

Haru frowned at the page. “I really don’t want to have to write ‘My birthparents were reckless drunks that got themselves killed.’” 

“Then don’t.” 

“Huh?” 

Light pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “That’s just what your aunt and uncle _told you._ We may never know if it’s true or not.” 

Haru’s shoulder’s sunk. “You didn’t find out what happened to them?” 

“I’m sorry Haru—when I went to adopt you… it’s like your mother disappears from the system at age eleven and I could not find any record of your father, _anywhere._ ”

“Oh…”

“But you know what I think? I think that if they _were_ drunks and criminals like the Dursleys said then they would have _records_ at the very least. And I think we can infer that your aunt and uncle were bad, petty, jealous people.” 

Haru snorted. 

“So I wouldn’t put it past them to lie about this.” 

“Then what does that mean. Them having no records… _nothing?_ ” 

Light leaned in and very dramatically stage-whispered, as if imparting a big secret. “Probably because they were ninjas.” 

Haru giggled. “But ninjas are Japanese!” 

“Well the English equivalent then. That’s it—they were probably spies.” 

“Spies?” 

“Yeah. And really good ones at that. And that’s why the British government kept no records of their existence. They were international superspies, you know, like James Bond.”

Haru grinned. He liked James Bond—he had watched a whole James Bond marathon with his dads when they still living at the hotel in England while waging the custody battle with Child Services. 

“I think I once heard my aunt call my birthfather ‘James.’”

Yes…. _Potter. James Potter._ And his mother would be like the Black Widow in his Avengers comic books. She was a spy too. 

Haru startled as Light softly patted him on the shoulder. “See? There you go. That’s why no one could tell you what _amazing people_ your birthparents were—they just didn’t know. The accomplishments of spies cannot be told and you could still be in danger if it was widely known you were their son of such amazing agents who foiled the plans of so many evil people and prevented WWIII.” 

Haru beamed from ear to ear. The idea that his birth parents were superspies fighting against some unnamable evil sounded so much better than “reckless drunks that got themselves killed.” 

“Thanks father.”

Haru hesitated for a moment before tentatively, experimentally, hugging him. Light allowed the action even though he was clearly a bit uncomfortable. 

“Now!” Light grinned mischievously “Good spies keep their rooms clean so that their enemies can’t get into their stuff and discover their secrets so easily...” 

“You’re making that up!” Haru accused. 

That just strained disbelief and sounded an awful lot like Light was trying to tell him to clean his room.

Haru loved his new room and always strove to keep it clean both due to ingrained habit and because his father was always pleased to find it clean during his inspections. It wasn’t even that messy! Haru only had the books out on the floor because he’d been recently reading them. Of course he didn’t want to _admit_ to that… He was _supposed_ to be studying… 

“No, I’m not. And you know that by leaving your room such a state is giving me vital intel—such as the fact that you’ve been reading _Naruto_ instead of doing your kanji practice.” 

Haru’s cheeks burned red. How did Light always seem to know? “Maybe that’s just what I _wanted_ you to think?” 

“For what purpose? It is not to your advantage to make me think that, Haru. You know that the sooner you clean up this mess and finish your homework the sooner we can go out for ice cream...” Light reminded him as he left the room. 

Haru scrambled into action swiftly putting his books away, finishing his homework, and changing out of his school uniform. 

Haru loved having clothes, a _wardrobe,_ of his very own and he took his parent’s lessons in fashion very seriously. He considered putting on more casual clothes but then again… he was going out for _ice cream_ with his family! It was kind of a special occasion. So he dressed in a black button up silk shirt and a matching black hoodie (because it wasn’t _that_ cold out and he supposed it was a semi-casual affair), khaki pants strung up with a chain belt just because it looked cool, and his clean new sneakers and socks—brand new socks, without holes in them and they even had Batman on them!) 

He then grabbed his hat—Haru hardly ever went out anymore without his dark blue Tokyo Yakult Swallows baseball cap (which he got at a game—they had a great time, Misa had got them all front row seats!) and dark sunglasses—not only just for UV protection but, just like Misa, he’d taken to wearing them in order to avoid recognition by the paparazzi. It seemed they had nothing better to do than to stalk and harass famous people… and the friends and family of famous people. They’d been focused on getting pictures of him lately since he’d once been sighted in Misa’s company and they all seemed to believe he was Misa’s lovechild from some scandalous affair. Light had fully approved of Misa’s precautions, supposing it was better to learn these habits early. 

When playing with his powers of disguising himself earlier Haru found he couldn’t remove the odd and distinctive lightning-shaped scar on his forehead though, he supposed, it hardly mattered in any case since he now had arranged his hair so that his long black bangs covered it. But Haru discovered that while he couldn’t remove it he could alter its appearance. So, just for fun, Haru had played with and morphed the skin around his scar so it no longer resembled a lightning bolt but instead appeared as the kanji for love (愛) as a low key Cosplay of Gaara from _Naruto._ (He also counted it as part of his kanji practice.)

For this outing Haru was wearing what he now considered his “default” face—that is he kept the black hair and green eyes he was born with but mimicked his father’s appearance. His hair was silky and manageable rather than that horrible tangle that resisted all attempts to comb it. He also had Light’s pointed chin, high cheekbones, upturned nose, fine eyebrows, and elegant, almond-shaped eyes. As an added bonus Haru discovered that as long as he wore his father’s face he didn’t need to wear his glasses—Light didn’t have a problem with his vision and apparently when Haru changed his shape he had even changed the shape of his eyes. Ryuk had once jokingly called Haru Light's "mini-me." He supposed it was true enough—he’d even managed to capture his father’s rather fierce neutral facial expression. Haru was rather started to see that look on his face so he practiced trying to soften it a bit by making goofy faces in the mirror. He eventually settled on a goofy grin. 

All dressed up, Haru then exited his room to find Light asking Misa if she wanted to come with them.

“I’d love to Light! _Oh…_ ” Misa groaned in disappointment when she remembered. “My trainer just put me on a diet.” 

“They put you on a _diet?!_ ” Light blurted out, aghast at the very concept. 

Light himself was usually very careful about what he ate (he knew the importance of appearances as a manipulative tool) but it was obvious that Misa hardly needed a diet—she was a waif, practically skin and bones—but apparently _skeletons_ were in this year… maybe Rem should go into modeling work. 

Even Haru could understand that Misa didn’t need a diet—he’d learned a bit about nutrition when the doctors had impressed upon him the importance of _eating_ as well as _eating right_ in order to correct the damage his aunt and uncle had done to him.. They made him eat much more than he was used to. trying to get him up to eating what he should be. They gave him charts of food pyramids and calorie counts which showed him just how much food he was _supposed_ to be eating and they had explained with various analogies. Haru had got it with the car analogy (he somewhat understood the workings of a car given that Vernon sometimes made him "fix it" whenever anything went wrong with his car and would punish him severely if he didn't get it running again. Then he would punish him anyway if he did because a toddler figuring out how a car worked was "freakish.") You wouldn't expect a car to be able to run without gas—sure it might be able to drift along on fumes for a little while but it was hard on the engine and if you forced it to keep going like that it would eventually break down. The human body also needed food in order to function... and to remain alive. And while he _could_ function for a while under those conditions it took an obvious toll—the human body needed food to grow and to thrive and because his aunt and uncle hadn't fed him much it was stunting his growth. Haru still wasn't used to eating so much but he was getting there and Ryuk made snacking on apples fun. 

Haru wondered if Misa had stunted growth too—she was _tiny_ and his father effortlessly towered over her. The doctors had all assured him that he was still growing and he might just catch up to his father one day; now that he was eating right. Haru wasn’t so sure about that but Misa seemed within easy reach. He could probably be her height now if he really strained with his shapeshifting power but whenever he tried to do such drastic changes he always felt really sleepy afterwards and his father didn’t want him “overexerting himself” which Haru learned meant tiring himself out using his powers when it wasn’t even bed time. (At first Haru took that to mean he should only try the really hard stuff right before bedtime but apparently that wasn’t what his father had in mind either.) 

“So that’s a no to ice cream?” 

“Yeah…” Misa concurred cheerlessly. 

Haru noticed that even Ryuk looked almost concerned by Misa’s announcement. For once the Shinigami wasn’t snickering to himself and just awkwardly looked away. 

“Alright… but Misa… just… remember to take care of yourself. Okay? No matter what Mr. Trainer says, remember to _eat._ ” 

“I know Light… but I can’t lose!”

Light barely refrained from rolling his eyes—the agency had her in an unhealthy level of competition with some other model, what’s-her-face. (He’d deliberately avoided learning her name lest he be tempted to do something… _ungodly_ just so Misa would shut up about it. And he’d already warned Misa about how it would be pretty suspicious if one of her biggest rivals suddenly dropped dead.) Light thought it was a silly thing to turn into a rivalry—especially considering they were practically the same in their modes and methods. 

“Misa… I know you’re under a lot of pressure but your health is more important. Do remember that they’re going to photoshop it anyway.”

“You think I didn’t know that!” the tiny blonde huffed. 

“ _Eat,_ Misa—I command it. And be sure to take plenty of vitamins…” 

“But I’ll get fat!” 

“You’re _not_ fat! In any case I’d rather you be fat and alive than pretty and dead.” 

_“Oh Light!"_ Misa swooned and clung to him in a tackling hug. 

It took almost another half hour but Light eventually managed to extract himself from Misa’s clutches but Light supposed it was worth it since Rem was looking slightly less homicidal towards him today. 

By then Haru was plenty prepared for their excursion to the ice cream parlor… or a trip to the Arctic. He’d packed provisions, reading material, colouring books, his handheld, and his CD player but Light didn’t begrudge him that. He was just a child who had been made to wait while he’d dealt with the latest family-drama… And Light supposed that was just something they had in common—neither of them took boredom well.


	4. Chapter 4

Light sighed as he glanced back over at the table where Haru was enjoying his azuki ice cream and a plate of daifuku in between bouts of tackling his colouring book with a serious expression. Light wouldn’t normally let Haru get wound up with so much sugar but he’d been working really hard all week and it was his treat day. Of course it wasn’t because he was feeling guilty that he was being forced to cut their outing short. _Of course not._ Sunday was _supposed_ to be his day off and _of course_ L had given him no notice before calling him in for an _urgent development_ in the Kira case. 

Light just hoped it was L just messing with him like it had been the last five times and not an _actual_ urgent development—Light wasn’t looking forward to being accused, or _worse,_ in front of his son. But then it’s not like he left any evidence so he supposed that if L tried anything like that he was sure it wouldn’t be because of anything he, or Misa, did. (Though it had been a close-call with Misa—ultimately it had been very fortuitous that she had run into him when he was going out for coffee one day—Misa’s initial plan was to send in some home videos to Sakura TV in order to try and find Kira and that would have gotten her caught for sure.)

Light _really_ didn’t want to bring Haru anywhere near L. Ideally, his family should go nowhere near his other life but there was no way he would be able to find a sitter on such short notice and Misa had her photoshoot all day. He had gotten up from their table when he discovered he had a call from L. Then upon learning he would be spending the rest of the day in the company of his nemesis and the taskforce had gone back up to the counter to order a box of donuts for his colleagues. L or rather Watari was usually the one to bring donuts but no doubt that, this late in the day, L would have eaten them all by now. It was nearing what should have been the end of the day for the officers and they would probably be getting hungry. Light found it useful to keep his colleagues grateful and indebted to him—they were more agreeable that way and it helped make L’s claims against him seem all the more ridiculous. _‘Really, would a ruthless serial killer bring the donuts? How could you say such nasty things about Yagami-kun?’_

It was important to be on your best behavior when constantly accused of committing mass homicide because no matter how baseless L’s accusations might be he just had to say it enough times and sooner or later someone would start to believe it… 

Also it was just a nice thing to do for his coworkers. 

Despite the fact they were hunting him, or rather _Kira,_ Light held the police officers no ill-will. That didn't mean he wouldn't hesitate to kill them if he thought they were closing in. 

Light discreetly, _politely_ squeezed his fist, cracking his knuckles after tucking his fist inside his jacket pocket—just because he was feeling stressed didn’t mean he wanted it to be evident to Haru (and, for obvious reasons, he was always very careful not to appear aggressive around his son.) 

_Damn L!_

He knew it was his day off! He supposed it was only a matter of time before Detective Pain-In-The-Ass pulled something like this. Knowing L he probably did it on purpose just to screw with him. 

Suppressing another sigh, Light turned back to their table. Haru was probably close to being done anyway seeing as he was occupying himself by making faces in the shiny reflective surface of the napkin holder. At least he wasn’t changing his face but then Light made sure that Haru now knew better than to do that in public… most of the time. 

“Haru are you almost done? I’m afraid we have to go.”

“What, _already?_ ” 

Light knelt down in order to wipe an errant smear of powdered sugar and red bean paste from the corner of his son’s mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Haru. They want me to come in to work… do you think you can behave yourself?” 

“I get to see the police station?” Haru exclaimed with obvious excitement. 

He’d been to the police stations in London after the Dursleys tried to push him into traffic and later at the one in Surrey when the police there began to investigate the Dursleys in earnest but he’d never been to the one his father and grandpa worked at. Haru liked police stations—everyone there was always so nice to him! 

“Well, it’s not at the station but it is uh… police activities.” 

“Police _activities?_ ”

Haru wondered if that was like when they made paper crafts for Halloween at school. Well… that had been in true back in England. Halloween wasn’t as big in Japan. Trick or treating had never really caught on in Japan but the dressing up part had and with his mom’s help, he was going to Cosplay as Gaara for Halloween. He’d already had the forehead scar-tattoo so why not? It would be a simple matter of making his hair turn red and giving himself eyebags and Misa had got him the full costume, red robes and all. She even got him a backpack that looked like Gaara’s sand gourd (Misa was the most awesome mom ever!) 

"We're meeting at a hotel..." 

Haru was a bit disappointed he wouldn't be going to the police station but he supposed he liked hotels too. He wondered if it had a vending machine. Vending machines were neat. He could make them spit candy at him if he concentrated hard enough... 

“…It’s not that exciting,” Light felt the need to elaborate when Haru’s big green eyes practically sparkled with glee. “You do have things to occupy yourself, right?” 

“Yep! I have my colouring book and my kanji practice book and my CD player and my gameboy and…” 

“Okay. Also just so you’re aware, Ryuuzaki… that’s my boss, he’s very eccentric.” 

“Eccentric?”

“That means he’s kind of a weirdo.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t tell him I said that. He’s just… he’s kind of… Sometimes he says mean or rude things. He usually doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a very lonely person and that’s just his way of getting attention.” As he said it Light wondered if that was actually true. L just seemed to be a very lonely person and he had claimed that Light was his first ever friend… in what almost _had_ to be a blatant manipulation. A world-renowned detective like L _must_ have had other friends and he most certainly wouldn’t suggest that his _suspect_ was his first friend (no matter how oddly _special_ that made him feel.) In any case surely L must consider _Watari_ his friend before him. The notion that he was L’s only friend was just too ridiculous (not to mention sad and guilt-inducing) to even consider. 

“Oh. I see. He’s a troll… um… _arashi,_ laying waste?” Haru had run into one of those soon after discovering the magical world of the Internet. Other than the idiots, Haru had been pleased to discover the Internet—no tech items that entered the Dursley home had ever survived the devastation caused by the Great Dudley Quake—not that Haru was ever allowed to look at something as expensive as a computer anyway. Of course Haru was always blamed for the destruction Dudley had wrought because, naturally, their “precious little Diddkins” was always blameless—everything was always the Freak’s fault no matter how irrational it might be. 

“Yeah… exactly like that.” 

“Uh.. father? If he’s really mean to you then why do you work for him? He's not making you, is he?”

Light froze. He honestly hadn’t considered that angle. 

Of course Light worked with the taskforce because he felt he _had_ to in order to keep tabs on the investigation. But then they didn’t really do much investigative work—it was usually just several hours of mind games, creative insults, and thinly veiled accusations. Was he inadvertently making himself look more suspicious by choosing to stay on when L was such a _jerk_ to him every day? But then if he quit it would probably look like he was running away... 

“It’s… complicated. But _more importantly_ ,.. just remember always be careful around Ryuuzaki… but try not to make it obvious, alright? And if you feel your powers start acting up…” 

“Excuse myself to the restroom. I know.”

“Good boy.” 

Haru squawked in protest as Light ruffled his hair. 

Light had previously drilled Haru on what to do if his magic acted up in front of witnesses—if accused _deny, deny, deny,_ blame something or _someone_ else, use logical arguments or their own accusations to make them doubt that what they saw or heard was really what they saw or heard, and, for best results, find a way to turn the accusation back around on the accuser. 

“Remember, if it looks _really bad_ you can always cry—you’re still young enough to get away with it.” 

“This is _really_ important, isn’t it?” 

“Yes. Ryuuzaki is the type to find people with powers suspicious.” 

“Like Vernon?” 

“ _No_ … well, _yeah_ … I suppose. In the end he’s no less dangerous.” 

“Do we _have_ to go?” 

Light frowned—he felt he _had_ to warn Haru about Ryuuzaki (a.k.a. L, the Worlds’ Greatest Pain In the Ass) sooner rather than later. After all he didn’t want his son caught up in L’s witch hunt if he could avoid it—but at the same time he hadn’t meant to scare him so. Of course Haru was, understandably, quite anxious about meeting “another Vernon” and that might cause his magic to act up, completely defeating the purpose of warning him. 

He really didn’t want to bring Haru anywhere near L but there still was the babysitter problem and he didn’t want to leave him home alone either. Well, he could always get Ryuk to babysit for him but to outsiders not in the know Haru would still be considered “home alone.”

Matsuda was, obviously, at work, his mother and sister were out buying shoes or whatever they did together, Yamamoto, Nori, and Kiyomi were all attending some seminar but… 

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps there was another option after all. 

“Maybe I can get Mikami to babysit… come to think of it, I think he’s home by now…”

He didn’t know the man as well as the other options but Light liked him well enough and the man was rather predictable—he would be home at this time, studying from his law books. Light had only met the man about a month ago when they introduced by their mutual friend Kiyomi Takada. (Light kind of got the feeling that when Kiyomi first introduced him to Mikami she was trying to make him jealous or something but instead he’d instantly hit it off with Kiyomi’s new boyfriend.) The handsome, bespectacled, long-haired man also looked very good on the rare occasions he wore a tank top (it was obvious that he worked out) though, of course, that wasn’t the _only_ reason Light liked him. He found Teru to be a standup guy and, as it turned out, they held similar views on life, the world, and the justice system. 

Light remained friends with Kiyomi, albeit somewhat strained, after they’d broken up when he’d become engaged to Misa. Generally, Light found her tolerable company—Kiyomi was one of the few people at university that he could have a somewhat intelligent conversation with and she was also the sort of girl his father liked. Had he needed to marry a girl after he graduate college to advance his career in the NPA she would probably be the one he would have gone with. However in order to secure custody of Haru he found it vital to marry a girl _now_ and he knew Misa wouldn’t object to that. Also Kiyomi just didn’t have the resources Misa had brought with her into their agreement—the Shinigami eyes (and a considerable fortune to call her own.) 

He needed Misa’s eyes. 

Not to mention that Misa would probably have killed him if he married someone else. 

Light could tell that Kiyomi was rather put out when instead of getting jealous of Mikami he just congratulated them and told her that he thought they made a rather nice couple (and privately hoped they weren’t together _just_ because Kiyomi wanted to get back at him.) It was probably for the best that Kiyomi hadn’t ended up marrying him—she was too much like him (that was probably why he was drawn to her in the first place); Kiyomi was almost as _driven_ as he was and Light sincerely doubted she’d have been too happy as his trophy wife. 

Kiyomi didn’t seem too happy with either of them at the moment but Light had come to realize she had good reason to be annoyed with them. He eventually just ended up trading phone numbers with Mikami so that they didn’t have to keep bothering poor Kiyomi by using her as an intermediary to set them up on their “dates.” Of course, Light had not immediately grasped why Kiyomi was angry and had assumed it all to be manufactured drama.

 _"Why are women like this?”_ he had lamented over coffee with the only human that came close to understanding him. _“They keep grudges for the longest time and over the stupidest things!”_ L had then pointedly asked if that meant Light had _finally_ forgiven him for stealing his bag of potato chips from his lunch that one time back in May, causing the brunet to leave the coffee shop in a huff. He’d thought that Ryuuzaki, _of all people,_ would understand—surely L was familiar with the woes of being constantly surrounded by idiots. 

It was embarrassing that it took L, _the most socially inept man that Light had ever met,_ to point out the error in his logic. It would only later, _finally,_ dawn on him what Ryuuzaki had been trying to tell him in his own oblique way—that Kiyomi had every right to be upset with him—not only did he dump her but he kept “borrowing” her boyfriend. He enjoyed Mikami’s company and of course he could see that Mikami was hot—he had _eyes_ —that didn’t mean he was planning on stealing Kiyomi’s boyfriend. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t get more than enough attention between Ryuk and… a certain pain in the ass detective That Could Not Be Named. Light wondered if there was such a thing as an “I swear I’m not stealing your boyfriend” card. He’d already sent her an “I’m sorry I dumped you card.” Light hadn’t even realized they made this sort of apology cards. Perhaps he wasn’t as socially suave as he thought he was.

But surrounding drama (manufactured or otherwise) aside Light thought Mikami was perfect, and he would have been a perfect alternative to bringing Haru to Headquarters and to L’s attention. Well, Haru was no doubt _already_ under L’s scrutiny just by virtue of being the son of L’s Kira suspect but Light hadn’t wanted to tempt fate quite so soon. However that he was even _considering_ relying on Mikami underscored his desperation. Not because Mikami was unreliable—far from it! Hell, the prosecutor was the most reliable and competent man he’d ever met. He was also the protective type and seemed like he would be good with kids. However Light normally wouldn’t have considered Mikami for this task because not only did he not want to impose on the man but also because… 

“Mikami’s _boring!_ ” Haru immediately whined. Light frowned slightly as Haru faced him with a most impressive pout. 

Haru acted like boredom was a death sentence—probably because he spent so much time with Ryuk. There was no way he could have picked up that sort of behavior from _him..._

Of course Light didn’t think Mikami was “boring.” In fact the junior prosecutor was among the select few that Light considered "tolerable company" But he supposed that he as an adult just had different standards on what counted as “boring” than his five year old son. He was well aware that he and his son were very different people—at times they could be as different as night and day. 

“Please can’t I just come with you? This was supposed to be our fun day!”

Haru just wanted to spend time with his father—even if it meant facing “another Vernon.” They’d both been very busy this week with school and work and had hardly gotten to see each other except at meals.

“I know, Haru. I’m sorry.” 

“I promise I’ll be good and not do anything freakish—”

“It’s not _freakish_ , Haru.”

“I won’t _use my powers_ and I won’t talk to Ryuuzaki! But… uh… what if he wants to talk to me?” 

“He should ignore you for the most part—I’ll make sure he stays focused on me…”

Light startled when Haru was suddenly hugging him again. “Be careful, father.”

“I will. Are you sure it’s okay? I mean I can still call Mikami…” 

_“No.”_ Haru insisted. 

He wasn’t scared of this Ryuuzaki guy! Well, not much. He could do things now that he couldn’t before. Haru knew he wasn’t _supposed_ to use his powers around other people but he did entertain the thought that if Vernon 2.0 tried to hurt him or his father he could always just set him on fire. 

Light sighed. He knew he _could_ force the issue. He didn't _need_ to so "negotiate" with his five year old son (super-powered or not) he could _still_ just drop him off safely with Mikami and be done with it but then Haru would most likely subject him to one of his epic sulks and in the end nothing would be gained. Haru was going to come into contact with L, probably sooner rather than later, and this way at least Light could limit the damage done. If he took his son to work with the rest of the taskforce present L would at least be a bit limited in what he could say or do and if he pushed too hard or behaved too cruelly towards them the taskforce would start to turn against him. Especially since Light brought the donuts when, in all likelihood, L ate all of the last ones giving no thought to the concept of "sharing." The taskforce would already be predisposed to be annoyed with L so it wouldn't take much to tip things in their favor. 

The dark shadow of wings fell over them as they exited the ice cream parlor when Ryuk glided down from the roof to meet them. 

Ryuk had pestered Light into getting him some apples but then he couldn’t eat them with them in the shop because the other patrons might see the floating apples. It got so frustrating sometimes that they had to live their whole life hidden and in secret… just because “normal people” had such delicate sensibilities—and would most likely _hurt them_ if they knew the truth. Haru had said as much to his father. Then he noticed how Light had ordered an extra apple strudel for the Shinigami to try. Light let him feed Ryuk when they strolled through a quiet, empty park on the way to the train station. 

Most of the time taking the train or subway or even just walking around Tokyo was faster than driving. Light didn’t even have his driver’s license yet (having seen no need to get one) though he’d recently acquired a temporary one in England because that had been more convenient. He should probably get around to getting one here—he had found he rather liked driving in the English countryside and given he planned to join the police it would be expected of him sooner or later. (Misa already had hers, but then she was a couple of years older than him. She also owned several cars, though mostly because that was, apparently, expected of multi-millionaire celebrities.)

The train’s doors hissed closed and as usual Haru bounced excitedly on the seat. Haru liked trains so they ended up taking the train or subway a lot—even during the work rush hour when it was obscenely crowded. Fortunately their stop was only a couple of stops over. Then it was just a short walk to the hotel room the so-called world’s greatest detective had holed up in—Kira Taskforce Headquarters. 

**“Is that a good idea?”** Ryuk asked with some concern upon learning of their current destination. 

“No.”Light was still of half a mind to drop Haru off with Mikami, even if it meant being horribly late. It would certainly be less dangerous than taking him anywhere near L. (Light would postpone their meeting, _indefinitely_ , if he could.) Light didn’t think spending time with Mikami would be any more boring for Haru then being stuck at Headquarters with him but then he didn’t want to mention that—if Haru thought he was going to be bored or miserable in any case he would no doubt act up. Well, Haru had his toys and books. It shouldn’t be _too horrible_ provided L didn’t keep him there too long. 

_“Yes!”_ Haru insisted. He would not be stuck with Mikami again! 

“If you just ask nicely I’m sure Teru will let you play with his cat…”

Haru shuddered. That was exactly the problem. He was like Mrs. Figg all over again! 

Haru had nothing against cats—in fact Misa had a fat and fluffy black cat named Fuwari that was a fixture at their apartment and he had liked playing with Mrs. Figg’s cats. It was just she was _so crazy_ over them. And as for Mikami, well… Mikami was _boring,_ always working all the time, and Winston—Mikami’s grey, shorthair tabby cat—was very much _Mikami’s cat_ and didn’t like associating with anyone else—especially rambunctious five year olds. Haru hadn’t told his father that he nearly got scratched when he went to pet him. 

Light suppressed another sigh—when he checked his watch he realized he’d already missed the narrow window in which he might have contacted Mikami—the man’s schedule was like clockwork and he was no doubt headed for the gym by now—so he had no choice but to revert back to the original plan of brining Haru to work with him. Admittedly, it was not his best plan—he was already going over various plans and counter-plans and means of damage control should the worst occur—but sometimes even aspiring Gods became entangled in unavoidable social obligations.


	5. Chapter 5

Meanwhile the three greatest detectives in the world was busy pursuing an errant crumb of powdered sugar donut with his tongue across the tabletop while the rest of the taskforce attempted to politely ignore the eccentric genius’s antics. As per usual L was sitting in one of the hotels’ cushy, pink, candy-striped wingback chairs in his signature frog-like crouch. It was a nice chair and given how sparsely some of his safe houses were furnished he didn’t always have the luxury of rudely crouching on the furniture. 

Having multiple safe houses set up around the world, even sparsely furnished ones, was a necessity for L—being a world-renowned detective one tended to acquire enemies—not the least of which was Kira. So on occasion he just had to make do with the bare necessities—mainly his laptop and a darkened room—though he generally preferred not to dwell so spartanly—most of his safe houses even lacked basic amenities like cake freezers! Of course L was not fond of being deprived of anything he wanted, least of all his sweets so he much preferred to hole up in opulent hotels… where he would scrawl graffiti on the coffee tables in permanent ink and climb on the furniture. Even if his crouching didn’t actually increase his brain power as he frequently claimed to annoy his detractors the ache in his knees was well worth it just to thumb his nose at theses proper and polite fakeries he frequently was forced to work with—not the least of which was Light-kun. It was kind of funny how both his chief annoyances were probably one and the same person. 

L the Detective was no friend of either Kira or Light and yet he enjoyed their dance despite himself. L allowed himself more and more to just be “Ryuuzaki,” the persona he was currently using—it seemed the most effective way of staying close to Light-kun. Mostly because Light seemed to actually _like_ Ryuuzaki or at the very least tolerated his company until he could find his name and murder him.

Not that Light had revealed anything significant as of yet but L still felt progress was being made every time they played a game of tennis or went out for coffee. Consciously or unconsciously Light just seemed to open up a bit more the more time they spent together even though L sincerely doubted that Light actually believed him when he claimed to be his friend. L found that Light liked to talk… _a lot,_ especially about himself, but getting him to confess to Kira’s crimes was another matter entirely. 

After (sadly) finishing off his bag of donuts L turned his attention back to the stack of papers delivered to him by the taskforce—they were pages upon pages of Kira’s most recent killings—Light-kun certainly kept him busy. L slowly picked up the top page with the tips of his pale, spidery fingers in order to awkwardly hold it in front of his face and stare at it with unblinking dark-shadowed eyes. L, of course, had noticed a change in the pattern. That, occasionally, someone whose name wasn’t announced or was misspelled by the media still died. Given the additional information that the type of criminal targeted had shifted slightly, L’s current hypothesis was that there was another Kira—a _copycat_ —one who could kill with only a face. Kira, for the most part, tended to go after the worst sort of criminals—murderers, rapists, organized crime… though, L noted, Kira was more than willing to kill petty criminals or even innocent law enforcement officers if he felt threatened or when L turned up the heat, Kira’s (rather childish) mentality being he would _blame them_ for going after him rather than taking any personal responsibility for the death of innocents. 

Unfortunately, due to the restrictions placed on L by working with the Japanese police he’d been forced into a pattern of attack and retreat—he would turn up the heat, try to pressure Light into making a move that would reveal him to be Kira but in the end he would be forced to stop his tests before he could get any conclusive evidence out of it—Light would always have an alibi. Though L would note that whenever he put Light under significant pressure Kira’s standards for victims would drop dramatically; purse snatchers and embezzlers would be sentenced to death rather than terrorists and serial killers just so Light Yagami would be in free and clear—L didn’t think that was a coincidence. 

This new player, however, didn’t even make the effort and didn’t seem to have Kira’s standards when it came to choosing targets—this _Second Kira_ had immediately gone after stalkers, burglars, and peeping toms with equal vengeance. This rubbed L entirely the wrong way (of course not because some might consider him a stalker… or that he employed burglars and peeping toms). Kira, though a murderer, at least operated within a moral framework even if it proved to be somewhat flexible when it came to such things as say… saving his own ass. This made Kira somewhat predictable and, even to an extent, somewhat sympathetic… at least as far as a certain handsome brunet was concerned. However L was certain his somewhat _unhealthy interest_ in Light wouldn’t interfere with him doing his job in the end. 

L had immediately recognized Kira as a kindred soul—a rotten, lying, selfish human being who was very intelligent, but also very childish and hated losing. So Light… no, _Kira_ was a perfect opponent for L and matching wits with him was proving to be both entertaining and challenging but regardless of how elaborate or convoluted Light’s plans or what supernatural means he was using to employ them L could still usually predict his every move… 

Usually. 

That is until Matsuda had announced that Light had gone and gotten engaged and adopted a kid. L honestly hadn’t seen that one coming. Not to mention the fact Light was engaged to a woman. Light’s inclinations were pretty obvious to anyone who actually _looked_ —even if they didn’t have the additional evidence L had acquired when taking Light out for coffee, sharing hotel rooms, and occasionally beds—purely for investigational purposes of course. Even _Matsuda_ had expressed his confusion upon learning of Light’s engagement until he was silenced by a quelling gaze from the Chief. (Perhaps Chief Yagami was the reason Light was still in the closet?) At first L too was totally thrown by Light’s sudden desire to play House but then L noticed how the Second Kira’s M.O. seemed to change, settling into a pattern that matched closer to that of the original Kira’s… _after_ Light had settled down with his new little family. 

L narrowed his eyes. He didn’t think that was a coincidence either. 

Of course—what other reason would Light allow himself to be tied down in such a way? It was just so sudden, so _irrational!_ Knowing Light, it was the only thing that made any sort of sense. But was it the fiancée or the child who was the theoretical Second Kira? He couldn’t rule out either of them but it was probably the boy. The woman was clearly camouflage—Light’s attempt to look “normal,” and why else bring a child into this at all? Or… could it be? Perhaps they were more alike than even he had realized—perhaps Kira was grooming a successor as well. 

That was a terrifying thought.

It wasn’t a move L expected Light to make either. He’d believed Light to be far too narcissistic to plan for the eventuality of his death. (L hadn’t particularly liked the idea either but then it had been _Watari’s_ idea.)

Still, L felt like he was missing something. 

L had, of course, tried to monitor the situation—literally. He’d kept Wedy and Aiber busy with installing cameras, bugs, and wiretaps he’d placed in Misa Amane’s (soon-to-be-Yagami’s) apartment but they kept mysteriously shorting out every time soon after he had them installed, thus cutting his spying short and, once again, they’d failed to collect any evidence against the Kiras. However L was hoping to have the cameras up and working again before the wedding night… for purely professional reasons of course. Part of L still couldn’t believe that Light was getting married and he was, admittedly, more than a bit jealous. 

Still the loss of his cameras was an infuriating setback and it didn’t even seem to be something his opponent had done. Whatever fried his cameras seemed to be a natural phenomenon given that it took out the TV and Light’s computer as well and L didn’t think that Light would intentionally inconvenience himself in such a way… Not that even that had been much of an inconvenience. 

L had felt a touch of vindictive glee upon learning of Light’s “computer troubles” until he’d learned that Light kept secure backups of all his files and with the amount of money Misa pulled in the loss of a few electronics did not inconvenience them in the slightest. So perhaps Light was (somehow) responsible after all. Was this the electronic version of a heart attack? He’d have to look into this further.

L startled when Watari called him from his makeshift “surveillance room” to inform him that Light had finally arrived but he didn’t come alone. L froze upon bringing up the security feed on his laptop to see for himself. 

Light had brought his son. 

His son who L suspected was the Second Kira who could kill with only a face…

“Er… Ryuuzaki, what are you doing?” Aizawa asked when the NPA officer glanced up from his desk to see the world-renowned detective hastily throwing his paper donut bag over his head and began to run for the door, pausing only long enough to poke two eye holes in the bag. 

“I have to leave, right now, immediately.”

Aizawa could only shake his head in exasperation—just when he’d thought he was almost used to working with L and his bizarre antics by now...

 _“But…”_ Matsuda feebly protested as L bolted out the door. 

***

 _“What the Hell?”_ Light exclaimed at the sight of L bursting through the door. He stepped to the side, gently pulling Haru with him, to avoid colliding with the fleeing detective who was currently running down the hotel’s hallway with a paper bag over his head. 

Sure, Light thought L could have done something about the dark eye bags and the messy hair but he didn’t think the detective was _that_ ugly. Perhaps the World's Greatest Detective was simply lacking confidence in himself? 

“Father, why does that man have a paper bag on his head?” Haru asked as he watched the retreating detective with wide eyes. 

“That was Ryuuzaki, I think. I told you he was eccentric,” Light explained as they entered the hotel room, Ryuk snickering behind them. 

***

Unsurprisingly, the Secret Headquarters of the Japanese police was full of Japanese men wearing matching serious expressions and blue-grey suits… save for Grandpa, Chief Yagami here, who was wearing a brown, boring, old-man suit and Matsuda-san who could never look serious. Collectively they all smelled of stale coffee and old cigarettes.

Surprisingly, despite being a Secret Headquarters, it did indeed look pretty boring. His father had warned him of this but it was still surprising to Haru—it was a _SECRET_ Headquarters, after all. He was expecting spy stuff, exploding cuff links and decoder rings—not boring paperwork. 

Haru regarded the investigators shyly. Their demeanor was kind of scary, reminding Haru of some of the guests Vernon had over at the house sometimes and that in turn reminded him of his uncle just prior to such meetings: _“Not a peep out of you, boy. Get in your cupboard, make no noise, and pretend you don’t exist.”_

As much as he loathed his uncle that seemed a viable strategy for the moment—Light had impressed on him how it could cause trouble for them if he displayed powers in front of the officers and it was best if he didn’t draw attention to himself. 

***

“So… what’s the emergency?” Light demanded as he stalked into the hotel room, young son in tow. 

“Paperwork,” Mogi grunted the obvious from behind his towering paper stacks.

Light blinked in confusion “Who are you?” 

Light hadn’t expected to see a new face at headquarters. Those few that hadn’t been daunted by the threat of Kira had left soon after they got a taste of L’s rudeness and underhanded tactics. These days it was always just the same ragtag group that attended such meetings. There was L, or _Ryuuzaki_ as he insisted on being called, who was usually a constant presence haunting Light’s every step (it almost seemed wrong to see the taskforce assembled here without L scarfing candy in the corner.) Watari was frequently present as well, often providing the peculiar detective with said sweets. L’s _butler? Handler?_ Whatever his title, the elderly man frequently served as an intermediary who did most of the social interactions between law agencies for the eccentric genius. Watari’s face was always hidden in shadow by his ominous looking black mask, trenchcoat, and fedora whenever Light was in the room—it was only from hearing his voice that Light was able to approximate his age. 

There was also Light’s father (Chief Souichiro Yagami) and Matsuda or _Matsui_ as he was called here. Light took care to use Matsuda’s alias even though he knew Matsuda prior to the Kira case; Matsuda was a family friend of the Yagamis and Light’s father had him over at the house a few times before. However it was still important to observe H.Q. protocol because as far as the Taskforce knew they would be in danger of Kira without such precautions. It’s not like Light didn’t know most of their names already but the whole point of infiltrating the Taskforce was to lead them to believe that Kira was someone else. He needed to appear trustworthy and keep them at ease so he continued to use their aliases. 

Finishing off the known faces of the taskforce was “Aihara” who Light hadn’t initially known by his true name (a quick hack of the police database had fixed that and he’d learned the man’s name was Shuichi Aizawa—not that he could use that information at the moment without needlessly incriminating himself). But even had he not known his name the grizzled officer was easily identifiable by his tendency to lose his temper and shout at people (especially poor Matsuda) as well as his distinctive dark brown afro. 

But now there was one more—the new officer was kind of hard to miss—he was a big man with broad shoulders and a blocky face; his black hair arranged in a neat crew cut and his large brown eyes focused on the paperwork with an unparalleled intensity. 

“Detective Mochi,” Mogi tersely looked up again from his stack of papers to give out his alias. 

Mogi barely refrained from cursing out loud. L had called Light in now, while Mogi was still working with the taskforce? Choosing to blow his cover _now_ after he’d been tailing Light on L’s orders for almost a year? Mogi hoped L knew what he was doing… 

“Yeah, we just have some paperwork to catch up on…” Aizawa confirmed from his own table while sorting through the numerous reports and records on Kira’s many victims. L had commandeered a great number of the hotels’ tables for this endeavor. 

_“Boring!”_ exclaimed a young, high-pitched voice. 

_“Haru…”_ Light chided and Haru cringed at his own outburst. He’d tried to be quiet! He really did! But he just couldn’t contain himself any more. He just couldn’t believe anyone would voluntarily do mountains of paperwork—that was so boring! How could adults _stand_ it?

“Haru?” Chief Yagami looked up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Light to do something as irresponsible as bring a child to headquarters where they were in the middle of a murder investigation. Though he noticed how Light steered him away from the officers who were working with crime scene photos in order to claim a small and yet unused coffee table in the corner. 

“This is a great opportunity to practice your kanji,” Light murmured to the boy and Haru nodded. 

Haru was well-practiced at making himself appear small and unnoticed. After his initial arrival at the hotel and up until his father had spoken to him the others didn’t really register his presence and even after they noticed him they still didn’t really see him aside from maybe “black hoodie” or “blue baseball cap…” 

“Why is that kid here?” Aizawa demanded. 

Light bristled and turned to regard “Aihara” even as Mogi handed him off a massive stack of papers. “This was _supposed_ to be my day off…” Light started before the officer rudely cut him off. 

Aizawa snorted. “ _Join the club._ Couldn’t you just leave him with the wife?”

“My fiancée is working today,” Light calmly explained as he began laying out and sorting the papers on an unclaimed desk, “I didn’t want to leave him alone in the house, and I had no notice and no time to arrange alternate daycare accommodations. I had no choice but to bring him here.” 

“You still shouldn’t have brought him here” Chief Yagami admonished sternly, “What if Kira goes after him?” 

“For one that would mean Kira has already infiltrated H.Q.—only the people here know that I brought him here. And, as you know, his name also provides a level of protection and I have obscured his face. Even if Kira has infiltrated H.Q. my son should be safe from Kira.” _Not to mention you’re assuming Kira would target a **five year old.** Though, no doubt it would be suspicious if “Souichiro’s son Light” pointed that out or appeared offended on Kira’s behalf._

_“Should…”_ the Chief started again. 

“But, just for safety’s sake, here you can refer to him as ‘Haru Asahi.’ I assure you he is very well-behaved…”

There was a crash, followed by a high-pitched shriek. 

Aizawa folded his arms across his chest. “You were saying?” 

“Oh…” Light sighed briefly glancing up from his papers, “It’s just _Matsui._ ” 

The rookie had just returned from his coffee run only to be distracted by the newest addition to HQ. He had just approached the child to ask him what he was doing here and was about to compliment him on his pretty blue bracelet when the coiling blue and pale yellow bands of the “bracelet” suddenly twitched and then slithered around to stare at him with large black eyes. 

_“He has a snake!”_

It was only a little snake but no less startling. Matsuda shrieked as the snake’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and in a visceral reaction the rookie bolted backwards, tripping over a chair. 

Light was surprised Matsuda didn't yet know—it was one of Haru's favorite topics—but then Light remembered that L had kept Matsuda busy and he had had no opportunities to babysit for them since Haru had gotten his pet. 

_“Ow!”_ the rookie groaned from the floor. 

“You okay, Matsui?” Light asked, the very picture of concern. 

“No… I’m not,” Matsuda groaned dramatically. 

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “You look fine. Now can everyone please quit screwing around and get to work?” 

“He’s right,” Light added, agreeably, “Kira isn’t going to catch himself, you know.” 

“What about the snake?” Matsuda asked nervously. 

“What about it?”

 _“It’s a snake!”_

“Yes, Matsui. It’s a snake. I believe we’ve already established that.” 

“ _Why_ does he have a snake?!” 

“Well my son just happened to be taking his snake for a walk when you called us in.”

“ _Snake_ for a walk…” Aizawa repeated incredulously. 

“She doesn’t like being trapped in her terra… uh _terrarium_ all the time,” Haru piped up from the table

Souichiro frowned at his son in disapproval “I didn’t know you got him a snake.”

“Actually," Haru eagerly explained, "mom got her for me when we went to the pet store.”


	6. Chapter 6

Misa was the one to take Haru out on his first real outing in Tokyo when she needed to run to the pet store for supplies. Misa was also the one to teach him it was possible to have pets without reaching Mrs. Figg-levels of insanity (or _worse_ like Vernon’s sister Marge and her “Freak-eating dogs”); in addition to her black cat, Fuwari, Misa had a pair of lovebirds—a male named Tsuki and female named Umi—though the cat and the birds were not kept around each other for obvious reasons. Fuwari had free reign of their apartment but the bird’s cage hung from the living room ceiling, far out of the cat’s reach. Not that that was much of a danger—Fuwari was an older cat and her favorite activities were eating and sleeping, she was just too heavy to attempt any daring leaps up to the cage—she just watched the birds with longing and chirruped at them at most (as if hoping to entice them to fly down into her mouth.) The living room was a good spot for the birds—they could listen to them talk or listen to the TV, look out the big window, and sing to their hearts’ content. 

Misa told Haru he could let the birds out sometimes to play with if he wished, provided he took the cage to kitchen (there were fewer things for them to hide under), kept the cat out, and closed and _locked_ the door before letting them out—apparently Fuwari had learned how to open doors provided she thought it was worth the effort and was determined enough to get in… though usually they would have plenty of warning—turning the knob with slippery, furry paws was quite a challenge for the cat and took many (highly audible) attempts to complete. 

Misa further instructed that if he let the birds out he had to watch them and not lose sight of them, he had to keep a towel on hand to help catch them again, and was always gentle with them—overall a lot of rules but then Haru was used to dealing with a lot of rules. However, Haru made the wise decision to let Misa handle her birds for now and not try to play with them on his own, at least not until he was older—he could think of far too many things that could go wrong. The cat was much easier for him to handle—she would whack at a string on occasion but mostly she would just fall asleep in his lap while he was reading or watching TV and he wouldn’t be able to move for several hours. 

As his mom filled her cart with kibble and toys for the cat and gravel paper and cuttlebone for the birds she let him go off to look at the animals provided he didn’t stray too far. There were adorable kittens and puppies, giggling ferrets, there was a koi pond—the large orange and white carp followed people as they passed, their round, whiskered, alien mouths opening and closing in silent and greedy pleas for food pellets—and there were tanks full of other, smaller brightly-coloured tropical fish that flitted through tall grasses and undersea castles, but what intrigued Haru most of all was the odd hissing voices coming from inside some of the cages in the reptile section. Intrigued, Haru crept closer, passing an Australian lizard that claimed to be a dragon but didn’t look like any sort of dragon Haru had ever imagined—it was tiny and didn’t have wings like a Western dragon nor was it serpentine and antlered like an Eastern dragon…it was just “bearded” and kind of boring.

As Haru searched for who could possibly be making the odd hissing whispers—he didn’t see another human in this section of the store—he became entranced by the slithering of dark blue scales lazily sliding by the glass of a tank. The snake was dark blue with a pale yellow underbelly and darker markings running along its back and around its eyes. 

“Wow. You’re very pretty!”

The snake turned, raising its head to regard him haughtily with round, unblinking black eyes. “Why thank you, young primate. I see you have chosen to study the noble language of Serpentkind. An excellent choice.” 

Haru gasped in surprise but resisted the urge to shout out loud and cause a scene—sure, there was no one around right this second but there was no sense in needlessly draw attention to himself or the strange phenomena. Though Haru supposed it wasn’t _that_ strange—he lived with two Gods of Death, could change his appearance at will, and set fires with is mind so he supposed in the grand scheme of things a talking snake wasn’t too surprising. 

Or _was_ it a talking snake? 

No the snake said… “Wait, I’m speaking _your_ language?” 

The snake reeled back in surprise. “How can you _not know?_ " 

“It just feels… _natural_ to me. Like speaking my first language.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“But… I’m not a snake.”

“That I can see, primate,” the snake observed wryly. 

The five year old didn’t know what a “primate” was but he would look it up later. (When he did he found he couldn’t really get mad because it was technically true. It was probably just one of those words that didn’t translate well when “Speaking Snake.”) 

“You are big and hairy and your voice is especially loud and grating on the vibration-sense organs.” 

“S-sorry,” Haru hastily apologized in a whisper but the snake wasn’t finished. 

“…you warm-bloods think you own this planet! You always seem to forget we’ve been here for a lot longer than you. Our ancestors devoured yours!” the serpent hissed haughtily. 

“Uh…” Haru stumbled, at a loss for words. He decided that perhaps a change in topic was in order. “Uh… You are very pretty!” 

“Yes, I am,” the snake readily agreed and Haru breathed a sigh of relief. That seemed to be the snake’s favorite topic.

Meanwhile the little snake slithered through the sawdust to majestically dive into her water dish. 

“See how lovely my scales shine in the water?”

“Like sapphires—blue jewels. Uh… _pretty shiny blue rocks_ ,” Haru found himself explaining when it became evident that the snake was not familiar with the concept of sapphires or jewels. The snake apparently wasn’t as well-acquainted with the outside world as Haru had first surmised seeing as it had hatched in a tank. Though that did beg the question of how it knew about Snake Speakers or whatever—well, Haru supposed the snake would know her own language when it heard it but how would it know humans could learn it? Maybe it was just a Snake thing? How could it know of the evolution of mammals and reptiles for that matter? Maybe little snakes have storytime with momma snake passing down the knowledge of countless generations of serpents?

“Well yes, _of course._ Primates like shiny things. But I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Good, it was meant as one.”

The plaque beneath the tank said the snake was an Aodaishō (青大将), a Japanese rat snake, and that they was favored by farmers for keeping rat populations down. Haru read the kanji 青大将 which literally translated to “Blue General.” Well, the snake was blue… 

“Do you lead an army?” Haru wondered aloud as he imagined a snake-like being leading a fearsome army of ninjas of something. It made for an intimidating image. 

The snake flicked out it's tongue. “What’s an army?” 

“Er… well, like when people fight, like _really_ fight, with guns and tanks and bombs and stuff. The general is, er... the leader. I think.” Admittedly Haru's own knowledge of military command structure was limited to playing with the little green army men he had rescued from Dudley's rubbish heap. 

“No, but I’m sure any army would be honored to have me,” The snake preened as she flicked out her pink forked tongue. 

“She” because the snake spoke in what Haru perceived as a high, refined voice that kind of reminded him of his nice babysitter who helped him when he got stuck on his homework, Ms. Takada… or _Takada-san_ (both Light and Haru’s books agreed that when learning a new language it helped to _think_ in said language as much as possible.) 

“Are you a girl?” Haru couldn’t stop himself asking and then cringed. What if he was wrong? He hoped he hadn’t offended the beautiful serpent. Also it just didn’t seem a very good thing to have a snake mad at you. 

The snake flicked out her tongue again. 

“Yes, I am female though that’s hardly relevant—how did you even guess? it’s not even close to mating season.” 

“Oh,” the boy blushed. 

“Such a clever primate.” 

“It was more of a lucky guess…” Haru squeaked. 

“Haru, could you help me with this?” Haru startled at the sound of his mom’s voice. 

Haru hissed a quick _“~Excuse me,~”_ to his new friend and rushed off to assist his mom who was wrangling with a huge bag of kitty litter that was almost as big as she was. Haru was sure Rem would have assisted her had they not been out in public—they’d probably get in trouble if someone saw a floating bag. Not that a five year old being able to help lift such a bag was any less suspicious—Haru was almost sure he _encouraged_ it a little with his powers in order to get it into the basket.

Afterwards though, Haru was determined to introduce Misa to his new friend. 

“Hey mom, look! I was just talking to her!” Haru asserted as he pointed at the snake tank. 

Now, unlike most parents who would dismiss such a claim as the result of an overactive imagination Misa didn’t doubt that Haru _could_ speak to snakes if he said he could. For one thing it was clear Haru had magical powers and Misa was already aware that magical things (like Shinigami and killer notebooks) existed. For another the existence of such powers was further substantiated by some questionable information provided by Misa’s friend Nori. Nori, who was even more into the occult than Misa was, had mentioned something along the lines of talking to snakes when giving her a quick overview of voodoo, serpent cults, and things she read on the Internet. And while Nori was kind of gullible (she was, after all, Misa’s first choice should she need someone to frame for murder), but given how Haru was hissing and the snake was hissing back, Misa was willing to give Haru and Nori the benefit of a doubt. 

“She’s called an Aodaishō (青大将), a Blue General! Isn’t that cool! And she’s blue too!” 

Misa laughed. “That means she’s an _inexperienced_ general, Haru.” 

The snake would ever deny the fact that she was _sulking_ and Haru couldn't help but be a bit disappointed that his snakey friend wouldn't be quoting Sun Tzu anytime soon.

_“~Give me a break! I was only hatched two months ago!~”_

“So… a snake, huh?” Misa asked slyly as she met the young boy’s pleading green eyes. 

Haru cringed. He really should have thought this through—girls didn’t like snakes, did they? At least that seemed to be the general rule back at Little Whinging… Well Haru reasoned that Misa was… _different._ She was also currently wearing a pair of golden arm bands that resembled snakes but Haru wasn’t sure if that translated into liking _real_ snakes… 

“She’s just a little snake…” Haru began weakly.

“It says here that when she grows up she’ll be around two meters long, five centimeters thick. That’s _not_ a little snake. “ 

“Oh.” 

“Well, she’s not venomous, so that’s something... but it’s still a big responsibility,” Misa cautioned. 

Haru was floored. Did he _dare_ hope? “You mean… you’ll let me…?” 

“You’ll have to feed her, and change her water, and clean the tank and everything.” 

“I can do that!” 

“It says here that they are excellent climbers and that they hunt bird nests…”

“ _Please!_ I’ll keep her in my room or I’ll make sure she behaves!” 

“Alright… as long as she leaves my birds… and my cat alone!” 

Haru was ecstatic. 

“Mom says you can come with us! Uh… That is… Would you like to come with us?!” 

“I suppose it’s not every day you run into a primate that can understand your demands. Alright, I will accept your proposal.” 

“If you come with us you have to leave mom’s cat and her birds alone. Those are mom’s pets.” 

_“Pets,”_ the serpent spat contemptuously. 

“Uh… her _friends._ ” 

“Alright. I will leave the feathered snacks alone. And I will leave the furry four-legged predator alone… provided it leaves me alone. If the cat is foolish enough to attack me I cannot be held responsible if I defend myself.” 

“Fair enough. But if you have trouble with the cat just call for me. It would make us very sad if she ate you…”

“I can defend myself!” 

“Or if you ate her. I don’t think you will have much trouble though. She’s mostly harmless.”

“Ah… easy prey.” 

_“No!”_

“Alight! Alright, no eating the cat your mom has claimed as hers.” 

“How about you expand that to just ‘Don’t eat cats’—the ones you’re likely to meet are all probably someone’s pet.”

“You’re already making things so hard for me, aren’t you primate!” the serpent lamented. “Alright. No cat-snacks. Such prey would be too big for me at the moment, anyway.” 

“That’s not very reassuring!”

“I prefer rats anyway. Go get me some rats, will you?”

“I will but you need to come with us first, okay?” Haru carefully reached into the tank and the tiny snake coiled around his wrist. 

“I like you, Speaker. You’re warm and you’re not bad for a primate.” 

“My name is Haru.” 

“Haru…” the snake hissed, as if testing it out. 

“What’s your name?” 

The snake scoffed. “Names are things for Primates.” 

“Would you like a name?” 

The serpent seemed to huff. “If you _must_ …” 

“How about…”

“If you’re going to give me a name at least make it a good one. Nothing so plebeian as ‘Uroko’ or ‘Sora…’”

Haru grinned. “I don’t know. Sora is a pretty name.”

“I’m afraid Sora is my nestmate’s name so I believe that it’s already taken.” 

“Sky?”

“What do you mean by ‘Sky’?” 

“It’s English for Sora.” 

“So you’d just call me Sora in another of your primate noises? _No thank you!_ ” 

“Sapphire?” 

“I am not a rock, Haru no matter how pretty—rocks are for sleeping on!” 

“But…”

“No, let me finish. I’m not a novelty, not something shiny for a primate to covet or own. I am not your _pet._ ” 

“You’re not?” Haru started, and tried not to sound absolutely heartbroken. “I just thought… well, I thought we could be friends.” 

“ _Friends._ You warm-bloods... _Fine!_ I suppose if you _must._ I suppose an alliance with you would be convenient so that is an acceptable arrangement. But I’m not your pet. No, I’ll be your _partner._ I will accept nothing less.” 

“Okay.” 

_“Okay?!”_

“Yeah, okay.” 

The snake seemed mollified. “Okay.” 

Haru blinked in confusion as their agreement was accompanied by an odd, indoor wind and a sudden, sparkly flash of light and then it was almost like he could _feel_ the snake on his wrist. Well, he could feel her before as she slithered against his skin but now it was almost like… like she was an extension of his power. 

“Well, you’re full of surprises—aren’t you? Look at you—magic monkey!”

 _“Magic monkey?!”_ Haru repeated incredulously. 

“So, where are we going?” the snake asked, her head peeking out from under the sleeve of Haru’s hoodie as she rode along on his wrist. 

Haru just shook his head and took that to be just more of the everyday normal weirdness associated with his powers and followed his mom to the checkout. 

So what would be a good… no _worthy_ name for his new friend? She’d already rejected “Noodle,” "Blue," and “Wriggly” and at this point he was tempted to just call her “Snakey” out of spite. 

Haru pondered it all the way out to the car—it wasn’t one of the sporty, flashy cars Misa owned. No, on this trip she wasn’t going out as “Famous Idol Misa Amane” nor did she wish to be recognized as such—that meant dressing casually, using a plain rental car, and using her acting talents to ensure that anyone would see was just another shopper. (That didn’t mean that someone didn’t recognize her and take their picture prompting them both to be more careful from now on.) Haru helped Misa load their supplies into the trunk whenever he could; though he was ever mindful of his new passenger who quite literally latched herself onto his arm. Upon getting settled and buckled up for the trip back he suddenly remembered the Book of Dragons he’d left under the car seat. 

“Would you like to be named after a dragon?” Haru asked the snake. 

The little snake was silent for a moment and at first Haru was worried he had offended her again but then he noticed the snake’s instant change in attitude.

“I would be most honored, Speaker Haru.” 

Haru hastily flipped through the pages of brightly-coloured artwork, looking for a name worthy of such a well-spoken snake. “Uh… how about… Yu-Lung or Yu for short? Yu-lung is the Chinese Dragon God… “

“I like the sound of that!” 

“Of studying and passing exams.” 

The serpent stared at him in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

Haru supposed that snakes didn’t have to go to school or take tests… on account of them being snakes. 

_Lucky bastards._

“Essentially Yu-lung is the deity of the intelligent, hard-working, and the lucky.” 

“I suppose two out of three isn’t bad but work is for primates. If it’s just the same to you I would much rather just eat a nice juicy rat and fall asleep in the sun.” 

“I take it back. You’re _way_ too lazy for that name.” 

“I’m not _lazy_ ,” the newly named Yu griped, “I’m a _snake._ It’s my nature. I need to conserve my energy. Not like you warm bloods—and _no take backs!_ ” 

Haru grinned. 

“Oh? You know in the art Yu-lung sometimes looks like a Chinese dragon and sometimes like a koi…” 

“I’m not a fish!” Yu snapped indignantly “Fish are food!” 

“No take backs!”

“Cheeky primate,” Yu huffed. 

***

While his mom drove them back to the apartment, softly singing along to the J-pop on the radio, Haru excitedly skimmed through his new book on snakes with Yu peeking if not reading over his shoulder. Whenever Haru turned a page, Yu would demand an explanation of the pictures… such as when he came across a picture of a snake in a lake. 

_“~It says here that snakes are good swimmers…~_ Hey mom,” Haru called, completely unaware of how he switched languages in mid-sentence “Can I take her swimming?” 

“Not in the pool,” Misa cautioned. 

“What? But _why?_ ” 

"Partly for the same reason we have no Shinigami in the pool—it would upset our neighbors..." 

Haru was about to protest on general principle—Haru had decided not so long ago on Privet Drive that he really didn't care what the _neighbors_ thought. 

"...but mostly because the chlorine probably wouldn't be good for her." 

“Chlorine?”

“The chemicals they use to keep the pool clean.”

“Oh.” 

“Also the pool is cold—probably too cold for her. You need to make sure she stays at the right temperature or it could hurt her. Even kill her!” 

Haru cringed when he realized his stupidity could have easily killed his new friend. Haru determined right then and there that he had to learn as much about snakes as possible so he wouldn’t make another stupid mistake. Still… 

“I’m sorry…” Haru hissed to the snake on his wrist—he just wasn’t thinking! 

“Fear not, primate. I will tell you if it’s too hot or too cold for me and you will adjust the heat lamp accordingly.” 

“O-okay.” 

“Now about those rats…” 

***

While it turned out that Misa had no real issues with snakes it seemed the same couldn’t be said for Light. It didn’t help that Light hadn’t known about the snake—Haru had yet to introduce them properly and everyone else, fiancée and Shinigami alike, had neglected to mention their apartment’s newest occupant. So it was that Light got an unwelcome surprise when he sat down at his desk; so intent on his work that he failed to notice how the tiny reptile had wrapped itself around the computer mouse for warmth. When he reached to click to something his finger encountered not hard plastic but soft, smooth, dry scales and very annoyed hissing. 

“She’s not hurting it!” Haru was quick to explain at his father’s surprisingly high-pitched shriek, “She says it’s the wrong kind of mouse! She just likes it—it’s nice and warm, see?” 

“That’s… _wonderful,_ Haru,” his father had said with a strained smile.

Haru hadn’t expected his father to be afraid (or at least _uncomfortable_ ) with snakes—after all, he kept a Shinigami in his bedroom without issue—but apparently that was like comparing apples and oranges… literally—Haru had discovered that while Ryuk loved apples he wasn’t at all fond of oranges. 

***

Light had been somewhat concerned at first about the snake in the house but in the end relented seeing as the snake wasn’t venomous, was mostly harmless, and Haru clearly loved it. If nothing else keeping the snake was helping instill a healthy sense of responsibility in his son—Yu often fell asleep in Haru’s pockets so Haru got into the habit of double-checking all his pockets every time he did the laundry. 

***

The taskforce edged nervously around where Haru was petting his snake and glaring at Matsuda resentfully. The rookie continued to make fearful shrieks and whimpers whenever he glanced over at the snake on Haru’s arm. Haru just didn’t get it—Yu wasn’t even _doing_ anything and his father got over his initial discomfort so why couldn’t Matsuda-san? 

Matsuda shuddered again. “Does it… you know, eat rats?”

“Well, yeah—she’s a ratsnake.”

“ _Ewww!_ ” The rookie cringed again. 

“What? Cats eat rats too—sometimes they even kill them—rats and birds and stuff, and in really gross bloody ways and leave them as presents or trophies for their people to find… but they don’t get such a bad reputation for it—people still love them. But a snake eats a rat and people get grossed out? Why is that? Just because one has fur and the other have scales?” 

“Pretty much,” Mogi grunted from behind his mountains of papers. 

“That’s so unfair!” 

Chief Yagami frowned as Light’s found son was already proving a distraction to the taskforce. “Perhaps we should see about alternative arrangements. Aizawa… your wife is at home at the moment, right?” 

“Yeah… but I can’t say she’s fond of snakes either.” 

“Don’t listen to him, Yu-lung. You are lovely,” Haru said and the little serpent proudly held up her head with the flattery. Though to everyone else in the room Haru’s spoken sentence came out more like this: 

_“Ssāhayaesseythāhatheh hathehāyāsseythasseyāssseythā sseyāyaeh sēthāyāsseh Hāhess hāh’esseytha hāhassē hathehayaehsāhthaysshathehhāh.”_

“He likes to pretend to talk to his snake.” Light told the freaked out taskforce, though he was well-aware that there was no “pretending” about it. 

When Light first heard him hissing to his pet the genius recognized a definite pattern to the hissing. He had read about this—how sometimes children brought up in severely abusive or neglectful situations, like Haru, would develop their own code or language. 

Languages had rules and rules could be learned. 

Light was oddly touched that Haru trusted him enough to start teaching it to him when he asked. He was, after all, an adult, and usually such a code or language would have been made for the sake of _not_ talking to adults. It would be very convenient to have a means to communicate with Haru that no one else could understand (though the concern was always there that if he could crack the code then so could L.)

It didn’t take long into their lessons for Light to realize that with this language they really _could_ speak to snakes. Light had also discovered that Haru’s snake, Yu, was quite rude and had no fashion taste, seeing as she thought his khakis to be ugly. Though he supposed it was to be expected that she’d know nothing about high fashion seeing as she was a snake.


	7. Chapter 7

“So you’re gonna be alright here for a while?” 

_“Un,”_ Haru nodded in agreement as he concentrated on filled up his colouring book. 

“But… _snake!_ ” 

Light suppressed a sigh—it seemed Matsuda hadn’t moved on from that concept. 

“It’s his _pet,_ Matsui. She’s harmless.”

Light was glad that Yu couldn’t understand Japanese—he’d noticed she would get rather upset whenever he’d referred to her as a pet and would insult him for hours afterwards (and it seemed Ryuk and Misa were in agreement that his getting into an argument with a snake over the merits of hair conditioner looked absolutely ridiculous.) 

“Hey, Matsui!” Aizawa hollered, “Why don’t you make yourself useful and look after the kid.” 

Haru winced—he didn’t think he liked Mr. Aihara that much—his first impression was that the man was loud and mean to nice Mr. Matsuda and his blustering kind of reminded him of Vernon the Vermin.

“You don’t have to do that,” Light protested, “I can look after Haru... and Matsui is clearly still upset over our choice of pet.”

Mastuda swallowed as suddenly all eyes were on him again cringing away from the little snake. “It’s no trouble, really,” the rookie managed meekly.

“Besides,” Aizawa cut in, “You know that Ryuuzaki will no doubt want to pick your brains over this.” 

Haru made a face. _“Eww!”_

Light chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that does make a disturbing image if you take it literally.” 

“Eww, that’s _nasty_ Aizaw… _Aihara!_ And in front of the kid too!” Mastuda scolded. 

Aizawa rolled his eyes.

However, all bickering ceased when Light casually placed the box of donuts he’d been carrying on Matsuda’s desk. “Those are for everyone, not just L,” Light added, though it was strictly unnecessary—the team of tired, hungry detectives converged on the donut box like a plague of locusts. 

“Thanks, Light! You’re the best!” Matsuda exclaimed around a mouthful of anpan. 

Haru tried, and failed, not to giggle—Matsuda’s mouth had stained a deep red-violet from the bean paste so he kind of looked like Piers after that one time Dudley dared him to eat a crayon. 

“L didn’t share any of his!” Matsuda asserted loudly. 

“That’s rude, but not surprising,” Light easily replied, waiting for such an opening to guide the conversation—and the taskforce’s sentiments. “I mean, this _is_ Ryuuzaki we’re talking about.” 

“It was also pretty rude that he made us all come in on our day off only to skip out early. That’s so unfair!” Matsuda whined. 

“What a dick!” Aizawa murmured in rare agreement with the rookie. 

“Who’s a dick?”

“Er… _No one!_ ” Aizawa stammered, as they were all caught off-guard by the sudden reappearance of the target of their conversation. 

L had returned; a dark blue scarf wrapped around him to cover the bottom half of his face and his own disconsolate muttering. It’s all he’d had time to grab when Watari had essentially forced him back to his hotel room. L supposed his own long, dark mess of his bangs would have to do for concealing the rest. 

Light quickly concealed his amusement with a polite cough when he noted that L had returned with powdered sugar and donut crumbs in his hair. Light decided that L would definitely look odd with white hair—he just didn’t think it was a good look on him. L, no _Ryuuzaki_ looked so much sexier with black hair… not that it mattered, really. It’s not like Ryuuzaki was _important_ to him or anything. Light just found himself… _annoyed_ for some reason. L really needed to wash his hair! It also annoyed him that Matsuda was laughing at L for some reason—probably because that was his prerogative. Light supposed it was a good time anyway to politely intervene and allow Ryuuzaki to save face and ever so gracefully redirected the conversation… 

“Uh…. _Nice scarf,_ Ryuuzaki.” 

Light only thought it worth commenting on because it was so rare to see L in anything besides the same plain white-long sleeved shirt and baggy blue jeans—he thought L could have gone for a change in wardrobe too. Light imagined L would look good in a suit. He also imagined trying to get L into a suit would be a similar experience to trying to give Misa’s cat a bath—if not more painful. 

The detective quirked an eyebrow, a motion that went mostly unseen, seeing as it was concealed by the dark curtain of L’s hair but Light somehow still managed to read the bemusement at the sudden compliment. 

“Why thank you, Light-kun.” 

L supposed it was a nice scarf. It was warm and soft and even after having it for over two decades it had somehow, as if by magic, retained its original colors—it was a rich, dark blue with a black Gothic letter L stitched into one end and the oddest design of a small red chili pepper on a field of stars on the other. He’d never understood the meaning of that. He wasn’t particularly fond of chili peppers, or spicy foods in general, given that he much preferred the taste of most anything sweet. Still, he’d had it on him when he’d been dumped at the orphanage and the dark years that followed before he was found by Mr. Wammy... 

He found it best not to dwell on it. 

L also sternly reminded himself that he was irritated with Watari at the moment. 

Watari had forced him to return, citing that it was rude, _even for him,_ to skip out after he’d forced all the officers to come in on their day off and while Watari generally trusted L’s judgment he found it ridiculous that L assumed that a _five year old_ was capable of mass murder. After all, not even B, L’s successor-turned-serial killer, was a murderer when he was _five._ L had argued in turn that since Light was probably Kira the child was no doubt being indoctrinated—so it was indeed possible. Watari still didn’t believe him but he assented to L’s need to cover his face in order to feel secure because while it seemed ridiculous to him L’s paranoia turned out to be justified more often than not. 

Speaking of paranoia, his was clearly unfounded in the case of Light’s donuts—they were obviously not poisoned seeing as none of the officers who partook of them and had keeled over dead. L frowned when he noticed the empty box—he’d taken too long to assess whether the donuts were dangerous and now there were no donuts left for him. It was no matter—he could just get Watari to get him some more. Still, L was sure the lack of donuts saved for him was a deliberate snub on Light’s part. 

The detective eyed his suspect critically and the corners of his mouth twisted upwards slightly in the approximation of a human smile. 

“Nice pants.”

After all it was only polite to return a compliment. 

It always amused him whenever he managed to catch Light off-guard with a display of exaggerated social awkwardness. L had also noticed, though irrelevant to his case notes, that his Kira suspect was very cute when he was flustered. The killer ducked his head slightly but L still caught the slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Uh… Thanks. They’re khakis.” 

“I can see that.” L smirked. “They really accentuate your arse.”

_“Ryuuzaki!”_

Haru glanced up from his kanji practice book ever so often to glare daggers at L’s back when such teasing continued for hours. “Eccentric” or not, Haru didn’t really like the mean detective who kept making fun of his father. He might be a child, and still learning Japanese at that, but even _he_ could pick on the undertones of hostility and the fact that Ryuuzaki kept implying that his father was a liar, insane, and a murderer. It also showed a real _lethal_ lack of common sense on the detective’s part because surely even if his father _was_ a mass murderer or something (which he _wasn’t_ ) that meant it wasn’t exactly wise to pick on him. Hell, even _Dudley_ , thick as he was, had more sense than to try and beat someone up who he knew could return the favor.

Ryuuzaki also kept making pointed barbs about his father’s innate neatness, politeness, and the way he dressed which Haru found confusing. What was wrong with being polite or dressing nice? Maybe he was just jealous? Hell, it was just like the Dursleys who kept calling him a criminal just because they didn’t like him.

_You dirty rotten liar!_

It was with that thought in mind while they were leaving that Haru accidentally set L’s jeans on fire. 

*** 

**2 months ago**

The patter of the London rain on the leaky roof did nothing to soothe Remus’s frazzled nerves as more sneering witches and wizards came apparating into his cramped, East End apartment. Albus had asked ( _demanded_ really) the use of his home for a meeting between “a few friends” on Thursday night… on Thursday afternoon, forcing Remus to engage in some frantic, last-minute cleaning. Who knew that Minerva’s lessons on how to transfigure roaches into tea cozies would actually come in handy? 

Of course he’d opened up his home without hesitation—this was _Albus Dumbledore_ asking a personal favor... 

He was regretting it now. 

Remus hadn’t counted on “a few friends” being the entire Order of the Phoenix that remained from the war plus a few new sneering faces; and while their reactions were to be expected, really, when Albus casually reminded them all that he was a werewolf Remus still did not appreciate being made to feel an outsider in his own home. 

But Albus had demanded the use of his home and he had acquiesced… 

_Like a well-trained lapdog,_ came the disturbing thought, unbidden and Remus gave a start. 

Surely such bitterness was _Moony’s_ and not his own. 

His “inner Beast” was the only company Remus had had for many years… though it seemed now even Moony was quite disgusted with him. 

_You’re a **Wolf.** Act like it._

Remus was always confused by the Beast’s snarling in his brain. Moony had never liked Albus Dumbledore and Remus honestly didn’t understand Moony’s reactions. The best Remus could reason, Moony’s hatred of the Headmaster stemmed from the old man keeping him caged though he did wonder why Moony didn’t show _him_ the same level of animosity because for the longest time Remus had fully agreed—a cage was _exactly_ where Moony belonged.

Remus himself felt nothing but respect and gratitude towards the man. If not for Dumbledore he would never have received an education. And if not for Dumbledore the Ministry would surely have put him down after the near accident with Severus brought about by Siri… _the Traitor’s_ malicious prank. It wouldn’t have mattered that a fearful Severus had come across a dozing, doped-up-on Wolfsbane werewolf and stupidly begun firing _Sectumsempras_ at him, or that Moony was only defending himself—to the Ministry werewolves were nothing but dangerous animals that had no rights and they would have killed him all the same. 

Speaking of Severus, Remus was surprised he wasn’t there. Remus kind of wished he was—at least he felt he'd _earned_ the dour man’s scorn through his actions, or rather _inactions,_ during their Hogwarts years rather than simply hating him for his Lycanthropy (though he was sure Severus hated him for that as well but it had less of an impact seeing as Severus hated most everything as far as he could tell.) Remus had been a Prefect. He should have at least _tried harder_ to reign in the other Marauders when the hazing got out of hand but he was scared that doing so would jeopardize their friendship. And Severus wasn’t exactly an angel either. While it was true that many of the Marauder’s pranks were less than pleasant (and they did target Severus more often than not); but they never went as far as to throw around evisceration curses or attempt to poison other students like a certain greasy-haired Slytherin. 

But then, they _did_ keep pushing and provoking him. 

To say that the Marauders did not handle the situation maturely would be the understatement of the century. They were just dumb kids… but that really was no excuse. In the end their behavior in school had cost them both—and now they were both friendless and alone. He supposed that was the start of… this “thing” between them. In recent years Remus and Severus had developed something of an awkward… he couldn’t exactly call it a “friendship”—there was far too much bad blood between them—a _correspondence_ of sorts. 

The thing was Remus had grown up since Hogwarts and Severus… _hadn’t._

That didn’t stop Remus from trying to apologize. 

But it worked out, somehow—basically Remus felt terribly guilty and Severus was more than willing to punish him for his perceived sins and Remus always gladly accepted Severus’s replies, reasoning that letters filled with bubotuber pus were better than no letters at all. He’d even thought Severus might have actually been warming up to him (and that it had been getting a bit drafty in Hell lately). Sometimes when Severus was in a slightly less surly mood than usual he would sell him wolfsbane (for a ridiculously exorbitant price of course.) However lately all of his owls had returned, letters unopened which Remus found odd—Severus usually sent him _something,_ even if it was just abuse. Perhaps Severus simply tired of him. That shouldn’t have come as a surprise—there was never any love lost between them and everyone left Remus in the end. 

Everyone but Moony. 

Moony was an uncomplicated creature—not _evil,_ per se but definitely amoral. The Wolf was of the firm belief that if Severus was stupid enough to bother a sleeping werewolf and try to get eaten he should have been eaten and if Siri… _The Traitor_ was willing to betray his trust in such a way, for a joke then he never was really his… _friend_ ( or anything else)—the traitor was always a traitor all along. 

And wasn’t it sad that the prey made better packmates in the end? 

At least James cared enough to save him—to save _them_ , him and Severus both. And of course poor Peter had never done him any wrong… 

In his darkest hour Moony had tried to comfort him in his own way. The Wolf had pointed out that James and Peter were _a stag and a rat._ They were _prey_ —it was in prey’s nature to die. Circle of Life and all that. He should not weep for prey. 

Moony was thoroughly confused by Remus’s anguish. On the one paw, Remus had somehow convinced Moony that these _prey animals_ were his pack, so weakening them that they would even consider that Stag to be their _Alpha,_ and yet some part of Moony always regarded them as prey—to the Wolf a rat and a deer would always be dinner and dogs were their enemies that should be killed immediately before they became a threat to the pack… _not an appropriate mate._

Remus was horrified to discover that any part of him held such thoughts and yet, strangely enough, coming to terms with the Wolf in his mind had been oddly comforting—it felt like he’d been wrapped in a warm, furry blanket—in his mind as well as over his skin on full moon nights. He’d noticed that transformations were not as painful as they once were. 

And with Moony he was never alone. 

And in a way... Moony was right—James and Peter, they … they never hurt anyone. 

And… _Black_ was a predator… like him. 

Regarding The Traitor , at least, Remus felt he should have listened to Moony. 

He should have known, _should have always known,_ that Black was a monster… just like him. 

If he had _just listened_ to Moony’s instincts then perhaps he would have sensed Black’s intentions long before he went running to his _master._

But he didn’t and James and Peter paid the price… 

Moony’s hackles rose again at the sudden crack of apparation and the intrusion of so many sheep flouncing into the wolf’s lair. They might call themselves “The Order of the Phoenix” but Moony was of the loud opinion, at least in Remus’s own head, that they not birds of any sort so much as sheep—sheep lead by a twinkling, _creepy_ old goat, and sent him the memory of bleating noises whenever one of them opened their mouths to sneer at the “dirty werewolf.” 

Remus looked on morosely as the wizards ate his chocolate and Moony again leapt at the gates of his mind, urging him to act the beast they all assumed he was anyway, to snarl and bite and defend what was his. Remus glared at the moochers but kept Moony on a tight leash. Most of the assembled witches and wizards sneered suspiciously at the tray of chocolate McVities that Remus had sacrificed for the sake of his “guests.” Not that it was a major sacrifice seeing as very few of the assembled witches and wizards were inclined to partake of _muggle_ biscuits. Unfortunately Honeydukes chocolates were just not a luxury that he could afford on his meager bookstore salary. Albus, however, was quite happy to take his sweets and Remus found himself in rare agreement with his inner Wolf in that they were both rather annoyed. 

Admittedly such instances of near camaraderie with his other half were far less rare these days. Remus knew he should probably find this mildly concerning but in truth he just couldn’t bring himself to care. At some point in the long dark years that followed the loss of _(everyone and everything he ever loved and even their cub was out of their reach…)_ his pack, his Wolf had actually become an escape rather than a burden. He was not like James or Peter or … _the Traitor_ and could drown his sorrows in Firewhiskey—the werewolf’s metabolism denied him even that. But the simple Wolf mind could handle pain and loss far better than Remus ever could. He was careful, he made sure to heavily ward any area before he changed without taking his medicine. Wolfsbane was often a luxury he couldn’t afford anyway. 

But that was _before_ —sure he continued to hold civil discourse with Moony in his mind but he was trying to get his life together now. 

The last thing he needed was to be reminded of the past. 

As Moony said, the past was past. Life was now. Hakuna Matata… 

(Okay, not so much in those words though oddly enough Moony did seem to calm down and enjoy watching the muggle telly.) 

The last thing he needed was some bearded old wizard forcing his way into his home with a merry band of travelers making him go off on some epic quest to slay the dragon. He wasn’t a Marauder anymore. He was a mature, responsible adult… 

Remus shuddered imperceptivity. 

Remus just didn’t understand. Why _his_ place? Why not use Elphias Doge’s manor or Hestia Jones’ cottage? Why had Albus insisted on using his cheap and very _muggle_ apartment, so far away from anything magical and inconvenient for the Order members? For that matter, why reform the Order at all? The war was over and there was no one left to fight—Voldemort was dead, all his Death Eaters were in prison… or out with a tap on the wrist—in any case hunting them down wasn’t worth Azkaban… or as Remus knew in his special case the Ministry would be more inclined to gift him with a silver knife through the heart if he were to partake in such activities against such “upstanding members of society.” So Remus was at a loss—he sincerely doubted that Albus had brought this hate parade to his door to discuss Werewolf Rights. Besides, Remus was honestly tired of fighting. All his friends were dead. It hardly seemed _worth it_ anymore. 

All Remus really wanted was to be left alone. 

He’d been working towards that goal. He didn’t like the danger of changing so close to people but the muggle world was the _only place_ he could hope to find gainful employment. He barely sustained himself on a part-time job working at a book shop—though he knew his muggle boss was wondering and getting frustrated with him over the fact he looked so tired all the time and had to regularly take so many sick days every month. On a few, very rare occasions he’d managed to land a couple of temporary magical tutoring positions—usually from the very impoverished or the very desperate magicals who didn’t _ask_ if he was a werewolf and he didn't tell. If he’d known from the offset that his prospects would be so bleak he wouldn’t have even bothered spending the money on getting Ministry Certified and the tutoring license. As a young, naïve marauder he’d once had dreams of becoming a Professor—something that his friends had teased him mercilessly about yet they had supported wholeheartedly. James had thought he’d make a brilliant professor. 

The Wizarding World wasn’t so open-minded. 

No matter how hard he worked or how superb his accreditations most witches and wizards would only see a mad, filthy beast. 

Remus often worried that they were right. 

However while this apartment was the best he could do after pulling himself out of the deep, dark hole that he had fallen into after the war ended _(they had no more use for him. He was only a burden. Unneeded, unwanted, unloved. He only brought danger to what remained of his pack, Albus said so himself…)_ But Moony had faith that they would survive and this helped carry him through. 

Now Remus hoped to get his own place soon, he’d been scrimping and saving his meager funds and was now eying an ad in the paper—a cheap little cottage in Yorkshire had caught his eye and if he really worked his arse off he might just be able to afford it soon. It was situated at the edge of a large forest and, most importantly, it would be a territory of his very own and _away_ from people... 

Moony was getting restless. 

Ironic, really, since it was Moony who had motivated him to get his life together and return to civilization. 

His Wolf, unlike him, had an odd sense of pride. 

His Wolf _knew_ they were strong. 

Moony, unlike Remus, knew they would survive. 

And while Moony agreed that their pack dying was sad (even if the Packmates chosen were better suited as prey) they had still survived. 

They were the Last. 

The Survivor. 

And to Moony that apparently made him, _them_ Alpha. 

Remus balked at the thought. He just didn’t think he made good leadership material—Hell, he sucked as a _Prefect_ and most of the time he couldn’t even get his _friends_ to listen. And now Moony wanted him to… what? Find some wild wolves or werewolves and _lord_ over them? 

They were sure to be eaten alive! 

No, it had definitely been time to return to civilization. 

Remus should have realized that after spending so much time in the woods Moony wouldn’t appreciate London city life … or Warren Zevon. The safest place they found to change was in the boiler room every full moon after warding it off and casting strong notice-me-nots—necessary because Moony did not like being so confined and howled bloody murder. Remus was afraid he’d spoiled Moony, letting him run free in the forests for over a year.

The cottage seemed a mutually agreeable compromise. It was just getting there that was the problem. He was so close, he could taste it… but he didn’t quite have the funds and Moony had been quite put out with him for the past week—his wolf, carnivore that he was, wasn’t fond of being restricted to a diet of cheap packets of noodle ramen and didn’t seem to understand that eating steak every night was a little out of his price range. Nor did Remus relish Moony’s idea of losing himself in his Wolf and go _hunting_ again. Even though he’d managed to retain enough control to restrict Moony to only eating animals Remus supposed that even as a Wolf some part of him now would always see deer as James and the rats and mice as Peter—that certainly made him _wish_ he could lose his appetite as a hungry werewolf. 

Remus startled out of his self-disparaging thoughts when the last of his “guests” trailed in, the last of his chocolate was eaten, and Albus grandly stood at the “head” of Remus’s shoddy round kitchen table. 

“It saddens me to inform you all that Harry Potter… has been taken from his home.” 

Remus had forgotten how to breathe. 

There was an immediate outcry from all around the table. 

_“What?!”_

“The Boy Who Lived?” 

"That poor child!" 

“Yes,” Albus elaborated. “He’s missing. Taken from his home by persons unknown…” 

“Was it Death Eaters?”

Albus appeared to give it some thought. “Possibly, or Dark sympathizers. His aunt and uncle died under suspicious circumstances. They may have been under the Imperius.” 

The world seemed to collapse from under Remus and it was as if chains had broken in his mind—chains of silver he somehow didn’t even know were holding him back snapped apart and fell away. 

_**Whitebeard lies!** _

_Albus swore James and Lily’s son was safe!_

_**Safe my arse! I’ve tried to tell you, so many times. He’s always reeked of lies! Harry would have been safe with us!**_

Remus realized then that even Moony saw James, his former Alpha’s son as their cub. 

Moony asserted that even if Remus insisted on being a follower, an _Omega,_ it was still the Omega’s job to look after the pups—a job they had been denied them. Denied them by Albus. 

So much was denied by Albus. 

At the time Remus had rationalized that Albus had his reasons. He’d said that having a Dark Creature around Harry would interfere with his wards but if anyone could just waltz in and kidnap Harry like Albus implied…

That meant that the wards were essentially worthless and there was no real reason for him to stay away. No, Remus thought cynically, it was beginning to look like Ablus just didn’t want a werewolf around the Boy-Who-Lived. 

It hadn’t escaped Remus’s notice that Albus had supported many a bill that made it so much harder for werewolves—to get wolfsbane, to get jobs, to live. And yet he’d always, foolishly, forgiven him, always rationalized it—he couldn’t really be that anti-werewolf. Not Albus! He even let him go to school and do things that every wizard had a right to anyway… but it was a grand honor and privilege when he was so graciously permitted by Albus. Albus who Remus was somehow _forever_ indebted to for simply, on occasion and when it suited him, treating him with basic human courtesy. 

And it was an unfortunate reality that many werewolves were Dark so really, they weren’t Bills against werewolves. They were Bills against the Dark. 

They were the Bills that drove many werewolves to embrace the Dark. 

But even that was inconsequential compared to the rage they felt over the fact that Albus had oh-so-casually _lost Harry._ The old pain roared to life—the same pain he’d felt when he realized that not only was his pack dead (or dead to him) but they had taken their cub away. As far as they were concerned it was Albus’s fault their cub was missing. It was his wards that failed and if Remus had been there he could have protected him… 

Again, he should have listened to Moony. 

They said animals had good instincts. It was high time he learned to follow them. 

Remus and Moony were in total agreement—if their cub was in danger, they would find him and whoever took him. 

They would find him _first._

After all, wolves were _excellent_ hunters. 

Albus twinkled at the head of the table as he noted Remus’s reactions, confident that his werewolf would track down his missing puppet even though his spells could not. He was certain his plans to reclaim Harry were running smoothly. 

He would not have been so smugly pleased with himself had he been able to probe into the creature’s, _Remus’s_ , mind and see the compulsions that were broken and the blind faith he had just lost.


	8. Chapter 8

“So how was school?”

Haru sighed and worked to organize his crayons as he did his art project at the kitchen table. He didn’t want to say anything but… “The people are nice and everything,” he hedged. Haru still found it all a great improvement over Little Whining where Dudley and his gang could regularly get away with Harry Hunting every recess and even right in front of the teachers who did nothing to stop it—and even on the rare occasions when they did, he was punished equally with his tormentors for “causing a disruption.” His classmates and teachers at his new school had mostly been nice to him and he had no major problems with any of his classmates. But that wasn’t the issue. “It’s just… well. _Boring._ ” 

While studying with Light and on his own Haru hadn’t even realized just how far he’d leaped ahead of his peers—he was already ahead in science and math and he could already read and write some kanji.It wasn’t until these subjects were broached in lessons did he learn that these were things he was “not supposed to know yet” and school just made him feel greatly unchallenged. Haru had found schoolwork boring back at Little Whinging too but at least he’d had the challenge of playing dumb, and it _was_ a challenge—it had to look natural. It wasn’t just a matter of getting some random answers wrong. Despite the Dursley’s constant slander campaign around the neighborhood fooling the teachers into thinking he was a hopeless idiot who wouldn’t outshine Dudley had actually required a lot of strategy. He had always done his homework twice—once with the correct answers and the second time strategically and consistently screwing up, constantly getting the same grammar and formula wrong. While cleaning the Dursley’s house (and whenever he could get away with it) he’d sneak a peek at Dudley’s homework (in the unlikely event that Dudley had _actually_ done it) to make sure he hadn’t accidentally still outperformed his cousin. If Dudley had done his homework, Haru often found he would have to either screw up his own homework even further, making such stupid mistakes that it defied all logic in order to score just below Dudley… or just not hand in his homework at all. In a lot of ways when Dudley began to demand that he do his homework for him it had made things so much easier. 

Light grimaced in sympathy “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just one of those things that _has_ to be done.” 

The boy gave him a look that was surprisingly mature and sad. “I know.” 

***

After Haru had gone to bed (and Kira had finished with his “work” for the evening, filling up a few neat pages of his notebook) Light slouched into the sleek, black modern leather armchair, feeling rather than seeing Ryuk looming presence “sneaking up” behind him—probably with the intent to get in some “innocent cuddling” or demand apples… most likely both. Rem shot them both a baleful look from across the room but kept her distance simply watching morosely on as Misa sauntered on in, blithely happy to spend some time with her Light. Misa handed him a drink that Light knew he wouldn’t drink and turned on the TV. 

Light knew that as Misa’s fiancé it was expected that he spend _some_ time with her and Misa had discovered that (though he might deny it) Light seemed to enjoy pointing out the logical inconsistencies of crime dramas to her though tonight he found it difficult to force that much amicable interaction. 

“Light? What’s wrong?” 

Light sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, mentally cursing himself—clearly his mask had slipped to the point that Misa could tell. “It’s… Haru.” 

He didn’t even have to lie. It just… _annoyed him_ that he’d come across a problem he couldn’t easily fix. Using the death note to control school administrators into letting Haru skip a grade would probably be counted under the criterion of “impossible” by the notebook standards and it would be suspicious if it _did_ work … not to mention morally wrong. 

“When I was his age… I’ve always had kind of a love-hate relationship with school. I liked school because I did well in it and the teachers always had kind words for me but at the same time… it was _boring._ I always wished I could skip a grade or at least just have something to do that was more challenging. And now I’m afraid Haru is stuck in that same boat and… I don’t know what to do. It’s doubtful that they will let him skip a grade, especially with his foreign-born status and previous academic record. I mean short of hiring tutors or something I don’t know what we _can_ do…” 

“Then why don’t we?”

“Huh?”

“Silly! We’re not lacking in money. I can hire some private tutors to give him more challenging lessons.” 

_Oh._

Light tended to willfully forget just how much money Misa made out of a combination of stubborn pride and a warped sense of chivalry. It was Misa’s money, he wasn’t a thief, and while Light was well-aware she would have given him _anything_ had he but asked he was _trying_ not to be an ass about it—he was already using her for her eyes and as cover—he didn’t want to take her money too. He might have objectively been a lot of things but a “gold digger” wasn’t one of them. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that!” 

Misa gave him a vicious, shark-like grin—it was almost on par with Ryuk. “As Haru’s mom, I insist.”

***

L held an ice pack against the minor burns he’d sustained on his ankle. It irked him that he still didn’t know who did it. That he, _the world’s greatest detective,_ couldn’t find the perpetrator of a malicious prank. Oh, he had his suspicions but whoever had done it had left no evidence behind. L had his eyes on Light the entire time, and while L doubted that would really stop him, at the same time L imagined Light wouldn’t want to incriminate himself just for the sake of such a childish prank. 

No, this didn’t really seem like Light’s style. The obvious new element was Haru, but the boy never once left his desk and he’d spent the entire time he was there quietly studying (though L had noticed how the child would on occasion glance up to give him the evil eye. L had simply found it amusing—the boy clearly did not appreciate his teasing of Light so he might have overdone it a bit… probably. _Definitely,_ seeing as Watari had felt the need to have little talk with him afterwards and warn him off flirting with his coworker—he didn’t see what Watari was concerned about. L generally wasn’t one for romance anyway and office romances were ill-advised, especially with a married man (or soon to be married man… even though that was obviously a mistake and _oh-my-God-Light-kun-what-the-hell-are-you-thinking?!_ ) Not to mention Light was his main suspect in his current mass murder investigation. (Dammit, L hadn’t thought he’d been so obvious. And naturally this would do nothing to dissuade Watari that he was overcoming his "growing hybristophilia problems." It's not like L made a habit out of sleeping with his suspects. Dammit, that was only one time! Okay, twice... before Light.) 

L would have suspected Haru just for the kid’s clear anger with him except he’d found the kid rather easy to read and he was sure there would have been some tell to suggest that he had done it—he should have looked either guilty or elated in having gotten away with the prank and no five year old had a poker face that good. But if it wasn’t Light and it wasn’t Haru that left…. perhaps Watari was correct in his fear that he’d made enemies by making all the officers come in on their day off. The Chief wouldn’t have done it or Mogi but then Matsuda was immature enough and Aizawa had perhaps become disgruntled enough. But the officers too had been preoccupied with work, or in Matsuda’s case messing around and eating pastries—in any case _none of them_ had been anywhere near his desk.

So either this malicious prank was planned well in advance… or it was done through supernatural means. That suggested Light. However L still doubted Light would have done this—not because his Kira suspect was such an outstanding human being but because Light had left before the prank had occurred. If Light was responsible, he no doubt would have wanted to stay and watch him battle the flames and, (subtly) _gloat._

No, the one who best fit the profile to do such a childish prank was the actual child and though he’d earlier eliminated him as a suspect… that was under the assumption that Haru was a normal child as Watari insisted and not the Second Kira. Kira could kill and never show any change in expression. Blood or not, was it that much of a stretch to assume the same might be true of his son? And was that really such a “harmless” prank or an attempt to kill him? He’d never heard of Kira setting someone on fire before, let alone anyone _failing_ to kill the target, but then Kira had concealed his abilities before. 

_If Kira can kill by means other than a heart attack…_

Then perhaps the fire wasn’t what was meant to kill him, maybe it was just the beginning—maybe his burn would get infected or… In that case it was already too late for him and he was dying… 

However, for the sake of the others, the safest course of action would be to neutralize the Second Kira as soon as possible. The Second Kira was a danger to them all. 

***

“Hey Rem, can you get down the cooking oil for me?”

Both Misa and Haru looked on enviously as the Shinigami’s long, skeletal arm reached the top shelf with ease—it sucked, being so short, but having Rem around the kitchen was very helpful. 

**“This one?”** Rem asked, making sure to grasp the slippery yellow bottle carefully in her bony claws. 

“Yeah that’s it! Thanks!” 

Light glanced up from his reading, musing that it was fortunate that they had caught the placement of cameras again or such interactions with their Shinigami would have been ill-advised—the cameras wouldn’t pick up the Shinigami but they would have shown them interacting with an unseen presence and, in the current example, the investigators would have seen floating cooking oil—that was not exactly normal and so might be used as evidence that they were Kira.

Ryuk usually warned him when he noticed cameras in the walls but Haru’s snake, Yu, beat him to it this time. She complained about a “strange yellow-haired monkey” wandering by her tank while they were out and Ryuk and Rem later confirmed that there were indeed bugs and spy cameras planted all over their apartment again. In response, Haru had done his thing (as coached by Light) he had pretended to throw a tantrum for the sake of the cameras to cover up what he was actually doing, which was building up and letting out an angry surge of energy that acted like an electromagnetic pulse, taking out all the electronics in their apartment. Of course it meant they would have to replace their own electronics again but thanks to Misa that was no big deal.

“I wish I was taller,” Haru pouted as Misa’s Shinigami helpfully reached up to get down more ingredients from the top shelves. 

“You can get the cookie sheets!” Misa enthused. 

“Okay!” Haru dug around in the pantry until he’d retrieved the cookie sheets with a metallic clang that seemed loud even all the way out in the living room where Light was lounging on the couch with Ryuk in companionable silence, Ryuk was, naturally, eating apples while Light was trying to focus on the book he was reading for his college law course… while also not trying to wrinkle his vampire cape too badly. Said cape was Misa’s idea, naturally, which was latched onto by an enthusiastic Haru—they were planning to go to Nori’s Halloween party later that evening—that was what the costume, and the cookies, were for. 

Light had been a bit leery of about hanging out with Misa’s celebrity friends but Misa swore it wasn’t _that_ sort of party. It was mostly a meeting of Goths and Cosplay Otaku who’d put together a haunted house and various activities for the sake of the neighborhood kids. There’d be food and drink, bobbing for apples (meaning he’d have to watch Ryuk and make sure he didn’t get caught), and later (for those that wished to stay that late and had the stomach for scary movies) they’d watch _Ju-On_ in the dark. 

Misa was going as a witch, Haru was going as Gaara of the Desert, and he was going as a vampire because it was one of the easier costumes to put together—all he had to do was toss on a cape and later when they were ready to go he’d put in the fake plastic fangs. He only wore the cape now to humor Haru and Misa—his son had been quite put out when Misa hadn’t allowed him to put on his own costume right away, pointing out he was likely to get it dirty if he put it on while they were making cookies. Since Light had bowed out of the whole cookie-making process in favor of studying they had settled for tackling him and getting him in costume instead. Haru had even helpfully smeared his chin with fake blood. 

Haru had been worryingly excited about the blood. Light wondered if he should be concerned about that. But then, he didn’t want to overreact about it either. He still remembered the few times when his dad was around growing up—when his father had encouraged him and his sister to play a few games of cops and robbers and how his mother would always wring her hands with concern at Light’s enthusiastic shouts of _“die criminal scum!”_ No, of course he didn’t want his sister to die. She was just playing the part of the robber and he was just playing the part of the justice-driven police officer but his mother hadn’t understood that. No, it wouldn’t do to overreact like that. So what if he played a few violent games as a kid? He turned out alright… 

Light was just debating on whether or not Ryuk’s loud crunching and the dubious noises coming from the kitchen were too distracting for completing his coursework or not and contemplating moving back to his office when Haru came barreling out of the kitchen, a bit of cookie dough and flour smeared across his nose. 

“Mom let me have the spoon! Wanna lick the spoon?” Haru asked as he thrust the dough-covered spoon at his face. 

“Er... I’m good. But you really shouldn’t have that in the living room…” Light began when he watched his son’s face fall. “It was nice of you to offer,” Light added gently, placatingly. 

Ryuk snickered, it seemed even the mighty Kira had a soft spot for their son and hadn’t noticed how Haru had him wrapped around his little finger.

“I’m sure your mom gave that for you,” Light insisted, “besides you need the calories more than I do. The doctor says you need to eat more to grow up big and strong.” 

“Will I be as tall as you?” 

“If you eat right, maybe.”

Haru pondered this. 

“Will I be as tall as Rem and Ryuk?”

“Uh… that’s kind of tall. You’d bump you head on the doorframe.”

“But he’d be great at basketball!” Misa chimed as she came to heard Haru and the spoon back to the kitchen; wiping away Haru’s nose-smear of dough and flour on the corner of her lacy, Gothic Lolita skull-print maid apron.

“Do Shinigami play basketball?” Haru asked innocently. 

**“No,”** said Rem. 

**“I’ve watched Light play, but I’ve never played,”** Ryuk added. **“I think I’d like to play. That could be fun.”**

“Maybe we could reserve the court sometime—” Light muttered only to be interrupted by his cell phone going off. 

_“Shit,”_ Light grumbled to himself. 

It was L— _again._

What was this? Just because the gross hikikomori troll didn’t have a life did he assume that no one else did either? Contrary to the detective’s evident belief, Light did in fact have other obligations aside from being the farouche detective’s personal bitch… 

**“Light, _please!_ ”** Ryuk gasped in mock horror, **“Not in front of the kid!”**

Haru rolled his eyes. “I already know that word! I also know ‘damn,’ and ‘arse,’ and… and ‘tampon!’” 

Misa laughed. “Tampon isn’t a naughty word!” 

“It’s _not?!_ ” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

Ryuk cackled and Light felt something like amusement pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Light barely contained a wistful sigh as he regarded his… _family._

They could be terribly annoying. 

He missed them terribly when he was out.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you guys later,” Light murmured sullenly as he made for the door. 

“Work again?” Haru deduced, shoulders sagging in disappointment. 

Light barely contained a wince. “I’m so sorry, Haru.”

Haru nodded solemnly. “You’re a busy man. I understand.” 

Dammit, he was turning into his father. 

“Will you be back in time for the party?”

“I hope so…” Light said, and realized he really meant it. Even though it was just another hollow social obligation it still _meant_ something… because it meant something to them. “If L unchains me by then,” Light muttered, hastily undoing his cape and wiping off the fake blood Haru had painted on his chin—he could already hear his Kira percentage rising if he showed up to work like _that._

Haru pouted. “I _hate_ Ryuuzaki!” 

Light chuckled. “That’s got to be a record. You only met him once.” 

“Once was more than enough! I _hate_ him! He’s a real—hey, how do you say ‘tosser’ in Japanese? I don’t know that one.” 

Light pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hmm… I think an equivalent is—”

“Misa, don’t encourage him,” Light cut in. “Haru, you shouldn’t be using that kind of language.” 

“He’s going to find out anyway,” Misa pointed out, reasonably. 

**“Exactly. He’s a smart kid, I’m sure he can work it out on his own,”** Ryuk snickered while finishing up his apple. The Shinigami stretched out on the sofa with a bony crack before getting up and, with unnecessary drama, made a big show of spreading his wings flaring his black feathers until the shadow of them practically swallowed the living room before taking off and lazily floating after his human. 

Light rolled his eyes—Ryuk didn’t even need to spread his wings in order to float like that, it was all just a big show for his benefit—Ryuk knew he liked his wings (and that he was more than a little envious.) 

**“Well, best not keep _Ryuuzaki_ waiting. I bet he misses you already,”** Ryuk chuckled. 

Light shuddered—he hoped that wasn’t the case. He’d just seen him yesterday and then the asshole had planted cameras in their house again. Misa at her worse was never this… _clingy?_ No, that wasn't right. The word he was actually looking for was _"stalkerish."_

“Don’t let them work you too hard!” Misa called after them. 

Ryuk giggled again at Light’s grousing that if Ryuuzaki made him miss his son's Halloween party he'd kill the son of a bitch with his bare hands.


End file.
